This Love Left A Permanent Mark
by englishpetal
Summary: This is a bad idea, she knows this is a bad idea. This would be opening a can of worms he wasn't sure could be sealed again. Rory and Logan pre, during and post AYITL.
1. Part 1

**A/N:** Yet another AYITL filler/fix attempt – I'm not sure if anyone is even still interested in these but I've been working on this on and off since the revival was released and figured that seeing as I'm writing it, I may as well share it.

My writing skills are incredibly rusty and I've never written GG fanfic before (never felt the need to until AYITL) but the messy story between Rory and Logan just won't leave me alone so I'm giving it a shot.

I'm also working on some during-AYITL filler and the inevitable post-gazebo conversation resolution so will probably try and publish that as well.

For now, this is how I imagine RL got from Hamburg to 'Winter' (one of many ways to be truthful, as their story was pretty vague in parts so gelling it all together is tricky) and there will be 5 parts to this story.

Story title comes from 'This Love' by Taylor Swift which I know has been used a lot for RL, I presume because it fits so beautifully. Chapter title from the exquisite 'Shape of You' by Ed Sheeran.

* * *

 **Part 1**

 _ **your love was handmade for somebody like me**_

She still can't quite believe it. Here she is, nearly midnight on a Friday, in a basement jazz club in the centre of Hamburg, sitting across from Logan Huntzberger, the one who got away. Or more accurately, the one she pushed away with some considerable force after he backed her into a corner. At least, they started off sitting across from one another but as the drinks and conversation continued to flow they gradually slid closer and closer together until their knees are grazing and she's resting her hand on his arm.

He continues to enlighten her on Finn's latest exploits – free climbing in Yosemite where he, miraculously, came away completely unscarred if you don't count multiple blisters on his feet.

"You didn't feel the urge to join him, help hold the selfie stick?" Rory asks, leaning in further to look at the photo on Logan's phone.

"Erm, no, unfortunately, I was washing my hair that night." Logan's smile matches hers and as their eyes meet he thinks he feels his stomach flip.

"Oh Huntzberger you've lost your edge, it was bound to happen eventually," she teases.

"Not true. Just last week I volunteered to run the gauntlet and accompany my mother to the opera. On my own. Of my own accord. No idea what came over me, the MRI scan is booked for next week to check for brain damage."

She laughs at his tales and she is truly laughing, from the bottom of her belly, and it feels good. She hasn't laughed like this in a really long time. She catches him scanning her body as she leans forward to replace her empty glass on the table in front of them; he immediately lifts the champagne bottle from the ice bucket and starts refilling. She probably stares at his mouth for too long, that sexy smile gracing his lips, and she starts to feel dizzy.

Rory grabs her purse and stands. "I'm just going to pop to the bathroom, I'll be right back."

Logan nods in response and watches her walk away. How he ended up here with Rory he had no idea, he hadn't had the opportunity to really think this through. He had agreed to drinks at a local bar with his colleagues from the Hamburg office but in truth he wanted nothing more than to retreat back to his hotel, order room service and zone out in front of the TV. He so rarely got a break from work, and from London in general, that he was treating this weekend as an excuse for a mini-vacation and he had wanted to rest up before he explored the port the next day.

But then he saw her. It was under 10 minutes from him seeing her across the crowd to her invitation to find somewhere more private to catch up. He remembers confidently strolling right up to her, that confidence quickly wearing thin as they exchanged polite but stunted greetings, the people around them seemingly ignorant to the obvious tension between the pair. She explained that she was out with a few freelancers that she'd met in town and when one in particular returned with a drink for Rory in his hand, even Logan was surprised at how firmly he clasped the other man's hand and clenched his teeth as she introduced them. But if he wasn't mistaken, when Sofia, one of his local senior editors, pulled him to one side to relay a message, he swore he could see a similar possessiveness flash in Rory's eyes.

 _She instinctively moved closer towards him after the leggy blonde retreated back to their crowd and as he was explaining what brought him to Germany, the music in the bar got progressively louder until they found themselves shouting in the other's ear._

 _"Do you want to go and get a drink?" she asked._

 _He could feel boldness mixed with a good dose of uncertainty radiating off of her. They both looked at the still full glasses in their hands._

 _"A different drink?" she suggested, laughing. "Maybe somewhere a bit quieter, but still lively? Somewhere we could talk, it's been so long."_

 _"I know just the place." He assured, leading her to the door and directing a goodbye nod to his associates._

Rory stares into the bathroom mirror after reapplying her lipstick, her dilated blue eyes reflecting back at her, what was she thinking asking him out for more drinks? Things were safe in the crowded bar, plenty of nameless faces to mitigate their interaction, bland background music to match the uninteresting conversations, bright lights shining a stark reality on them. But here, with the alcohol to assist them, they had slipped back into their intimacy of years long ago, shared glances, inside jokes, cosy touching. She knew what she was doing, what she was insinuating (offering?) when she asked him to leave his colleagues and he whisked her away to the other side of the city. To make matters worse (or was it better?) she knew that he knew too.

She could blame the shock of seeing him again for the first time in God knows how long in the last place she would expect to run into him for her actions, but in truth she had always known that whenever (and it was always a question of 'when' and not 'if) she and Logan would find themselves alone again, that it would be like this.

This is a bad idea, she _knows_ this is a bad idea. The guise of 'old friends catching up' was quickly disintegrating; she can't be strictly platonic with Logan and it would be reckless, not to mention immoral (she was supposed to be having dinner with Paul on Monday night), to pretend otherwise.

Rory takes a deep breath as she considers her reflection again. Well, you only live once right? She drops a button on her dress and walks back out to rejoin him.

She brushes against him as she resumes her seat and he hands her a newly filled champagne flute. "If I didn't know any better I'd think you were trying to get me drunk," Rory doesn't even attempt to disguise the flirtation in her voice.

"I have never tried to get you drunk. I have simply provided the libations and allowed you to choose for yourself. It's not my fault that you more often than not you chose to indulge." He grins at her so smugly that it takes everything in her to not _indulge_ him right here.

She settles back into her seat and Logan can't help but notice the alteration in her red outfit, this was turning into a very dangerous evening. He couldn't deny that despite the initial awkwardness (not to be unexpected considering how things ended and how little they had kept in touch over the last 7 years) it had taken his breath away to see her before him again and it surprised him how effortlessly they slipped into their old habits – gentle mocking, witty banter. He could definitely imagine going home with her tonight but he also realises that he probably shouldn't. That would be opening a can of worms that he wasn't sure could be sealed again.

"You seeing anyone?" He poses, as casually as he possibly can.

"I suppose, sort of, some guy." Logan quirks his eyebrow encouraging her to continue. "He's fine, whatever. It's not serious. It's not going to last or anything."

"Well I'm sure he'll be thrilled to hear that glowing review." He keeps his tone light but he can't lie to himself, he is absolutely fucking delighted that she's single (or almost single, whatever).

"I don't know, it is what it is. I don't really have the time, or inclination, for dating right now." Rory is suddenly very aware of Logan watching her amusedly. "What about you?"

He shrugs before draining his glass and signals to the waiter for another bottle of champagne. "Similar, I suppose. There's someone, I've known her for a while. My grandfather used to work with her grandfather, but then their family business branched outside of mainstream media, now we're sort of all doing business again. It's a whole load of commerce, which bores even me so I won't go into it. Basically we go to events together, all the parents are kept happy. My mom likes her."

Rory purses her lips. "Ooh, and you thought my description was scathing."

He laughs, "No, she's nice enough, despite my mother's affinity for her. But, I can't see it going anywhere. There's not much of … a spark. I kind of think you need a spark, or lots of them preferably." He grins at her knowingly and she can feel herself getting warmer under his gaze.

She breathes out slowly, knowing that this is the part of the conversation where she is expected to say something, anything, but words, her typical raison d'etre, completely fail her. All she can hear is her own blood pulsing through her veins and all she can see is his tongue sweeping over his lips.

Rory moves to kiss him, capturing his mouth with hers and not bothering to start slow. She slips her tongue between his lips and leans in to him so closely she's practically astride him. Logan responds immediately, burying a hand in her hair while the other rests on the small of her back. He is thankful for whatever he was thinking earlier when he decided to get them a private table. The space between them grows narrower still as he lifts her so she is sitting in his lap. His mouth continues its assault down the column of her throat and Rory is desperate to explore more of him with her hands but the size and shape of the booth restricts her movements. She grinds down onto him when he nips at her bottom lip and she can feel his body respond to her. Logan lets out a low growl and Rory is awakened to the fact that though it is fairly private, they're not exactly gifted with a cloak of invisibility in the dimly lit club.

"How far is your hotel?" she whispers in ragged breaths.

"Across the street. Why'd you think I suggested we come here?" He pulls back just far enough that she can see the cocky smirk he wears.

His self-assurance rarely shocked her. She leans in to kiss him again, gently sucking on his lip and soothing it with her tongue.

"Let's go." She stands, pulling him up with her.

"Are you sure?" he asks, putting a bit of distance between them but keeping his hand still encased in hers. He couldn't lie, he's known all night that there was a distinct possibility of it ending like this, but he had no idea what was going through Rory's head and he had to let her take the lead.

"You gotta learn to live a little Huntzberger," Rory leans in to whisper in his ear before pulling him towards the exit.

They leave the club hand in hand and the cold night air hits Rory almost immediately. She shivers visibly ("I forgot how far north Hamburg is") and Logan slips his jacket from his shoulders and around hers. She turns to say thank you and his lips capture hers in a kiss. Their merging breath feels disproportionately warm in contrast to the autumnal chill surrounding them and she involuntarily leans further into his embrace. She slides her arms around his waist and sweeps her tongue into his willing mouth, kissing him hard and deep. Logan really starts to worry that they're not going to make it back to his room.

They manage to rein themselves in enough to walk the hundred or so yards to his hotel and it's not until they are in the relative privacy of the elevator before they gravitate together once again. Logan considers himself to be demonstrating remarkable restraint as he keeps one hand tangled in her curls and the other firmly on her waist. Rory, on the other hand, is less modest and allows her hands to roam freely and she begins untucking his shirt from his pants. God, he had missed this side of her – he'd missed every side of her of course – but right now, in this moment, he was beyond grateful for her passion and impulsivity. Not everyone is lucky enough to witness those elements of her, and some certainly wouldn't believe it, with them seemingly being so at odds with her often mindful and sensible exterior.

He breaks away from her to open the door to his suite and she follows him inside. Her eyes quickly dart around the lavish but modern room before she refocuses on the man in front of her. She removes his jacket and places it and her purse on the nearest table before moving to encircle his hips again.

"Rory, we don't have to do this if you don't want." He utters before she reaches him, her hands on his chest and her lips on his jaw. Logan pauses and asks again, softer this time, his nickname for her finally falling from his lips, "Ace, are you sure?"

She sighs in frustration and looks him dead in the eye. "Of course, I'm sure. God, sometimes, I really wish you weren't such a gentleman."

With that he thrusts her up against the closed door, their hands entwined, hips pressed into one another, his lips a hairsbreadth away from hers. "That can be arranged."

* * *

Rory stares at the ceiling, eyes wide open and her surroundings start to come back into focus. She regains control of her breathing and tilts her head slightly to face the man next to her.

"So that probably wasn't the best idea either of us has ever had."

He smirks and bites back a sexy retort. "Probably not," he concedes. "Gotta say though, if that's what our bad ideas are like, God help us if we ever have a good one."

She blushes before burying her face in his chest and sliding her legs between his. "What was that? I mean, it's always been good but that was definitely more than good."

"I think that's what happens when you wait 7 years for break-up sex."

"Is that what this is – break-up sex?" Rory lifts her head to look at him.

"You know, I'm not sure if there's a name for what this is." Logan kisses her softly, the softest he's kissed her all night, and brushes the hair away from her face.

"So …" Rory begins but with no idea how to continue.

Where do they go from here? Should they talk now or in the morning? Assuming he wants her to stay that is. Judging by the look on his face and his hand on her hip he's not about to kick her out of bed. In all honestly, the champagne has gone to her head and she can feel her eyelids getting heavier. Her muscles are tired and she's feeling more relaxed than she has done in years. She instinctively curls further into his embrace and Logan pulls the sheets around them.

He feels the tension start to leave her body and her breathing even out. As much as he doesn't want this night to end, they have tomorrow to figure things out, to catch up some more, to make love again before they both have to leave the city that brought them back together. Logan really doesn't want to think about what happens on Sunday morning when his flight leaves for London and hers for New York. He really doesn't want to comprehend the conversation they are going to have when they realise that they live and work on opposite sides of an ocean and that this night has probably set them both back about 7 years in terms of emotional development.

For now, he'll take what he can get and Rory Gilmore falling asleep in his arms is much more than he thought he would be getting when he landed in Hamburg 2 days ago. He places another gentle kiss on her lips and they both murmur goodnights as he switches off the light.

It takes everything in him not to follow it up with _I love you_.

* * *

When they wake the next morning, he mumbles _Good morning Ace_ into her bare shoulder and for a moment she thinks that she is back in college, waking up in their bed in New Haven. She soon realises that they are in fact in a hotel room in Germany, that they're both seeing other people and that they'll both be leaving the country in 24 hours.

She turns to face him. "Good morning." They kiss and it's so familiar it hurts, like there's no reason they shouldn't have been doing this all this time.

Logan feels her tense against him as she racks her brain for the right thing to say.

"So … what do we do now?" is all she can muster.

"You want some coffee?" He offers, quirking an eyebrow at the rhetorical question.

"How do you always know just what to say?" She giggles and pushes him off of the bed and towards the coffee maker.

Logan begins to prepare the coffee and passes Rory the room service menu. "Breakfast?" he offers.

"Breakfast sounds good." she smiles contentedly.

"So, I know you said that your flight leaves tomorrow morning, but do you have plans for today?" he asks as he hands her a large cup of coffee and sits beside her on the bed.

"Nope, free as a bird. You?"

"Likewise."

"So, we've got today." They both nod in understanding. They better make today count.

What a day it is. It's a beautiful September day in Hamburg, clear skies and bright sunshine. Presumably it's fairly warm but Rory and Logan can't know for sure as they don't leave his hotel suite. The room service is delicious and the mimosas help them to loosen up and recreate the relaxed mood from the previous night.

It's sex and passion and friendship and catching up and before long it feels like old times. Rory has to stop herself from falling too hard, too fast, like last time. It can't be like last time. She can't do that again. Can't lose him again. Can't miss him again. Can't get over him again. Evidently, she needs to get over him for a first time to start with.

They sit on the bed in fluffy bathrobes with an array of snacks spread around them. She asks more about his move to London the year before, and tells him how proud she is of him for returning to his family's business in his own time, with his own rules. He laughs and admits that though he runs his own division and is still a partner of his independent company, his father still finds a way to be omnipresent in his life. He shows her pictures of his niece and nephew and explains how Honor is doing her part in rebelling against their family traditions by continuing to work after having the children as well as abandoning her DAR responsibilities.

She talks more about living in New York (when she's there), and her family back in Stars Hollow and Hartford. They discuss the times they have avoided each other at Yale alumni events over the last few years and agree to not let awkwardness come between them again. When she mentions that her upcoming freelance work will be bringing her to London more often, he suggests she stay with him when she is next in the city.

"So, if we saw each other in London, would it be like this?" she gestures between them and around the dishevelled suite, last night's clothes strewn where they had dropped them.

"If you wanted it to be." Logan promises with darkened eyes.

"You're deflecting the question."

"So are you."

She laughs and leans in to kiss him.

"We live 3,500 miles apart."

"Most of the time." He counters.

"We're both seeing other people." Rory continues to list.

"Technically."

"We don't exactly have an uncomplicated history."

"True." Logan admits.

"Is this a bad idea?" she poses nervously.

He exhales. "Probably," he confesses, his thumb drawing circles on her thigh.

Rory watches him caress her skin and draws a deep breath. "Want to do it anyway?" She offers boldly, observing his expression change from uncertain to amused.

"Definitely." He devours her mouth again and pushes her back into the mattress.

* * *

They say their goodbyes the next morning amongst harried kisses and greedy touches and Rory waits until she is at her terminal before sending Logan a quick text.

 _Thanks for a great weekend. It might have been a bad idea but I don't regret it xx_

He responds almost immediately.

 _There's no such thing as a bad idea when it comes to you Ace. Have a safe flight xx_

Rory replies quickly.

 _You too. And remember – What happens in Vegas … xx_

She smiles at his response.

 _Trust me, I won't be forgetting about any of this xx_

As Logan boards his plane it occurs to him that he never did get to tour the Port of Hamburg and he didn't really much care.


	2. Part 2

**A/N:** The response I have received for this has been wonderful so thank you so much.

Chapter title from 'Dangerous Woman' by Ariana Grande (not a massive fan of this song but these particular lyrics fit nicely).

* * *

 **Part 2**

 _ **something bout you makes me wanna do things that I shouldn't**_

Rory took another sip of her drink as Lorelai regaled the room with another tale of Michel's antics at the inn. She took a glance around and felt her heart swell at her nearest and dearest being gathered together for her birthday. With no small thanks owed to the flowing alcohol even Richard and Emily were scarcely stifling laughter at their daughter's quips. Rory felt her phone buzz in her purse beside her and she lit up when she saw it held a text from Logan – _Free to talk? xx_

It had been a matter of weeks since Hamburg and since then they had exchanged sporadic texts and emails, kept it light and non-committal, flirtatious mentions of their _reconnection_ but nothing concrete regarding their vague assurances to 'catch up again soon'. As more and more time passed, Rory could feel her nerve wavering. It was one thing to have a 'bonus night' (well 2 nights if you want to get technical) with an ex while you're both in a city far from home. It's another to embark on a casual love affair with your college sweetheart who you probably (definitely) still have feelings for. Add in the other guy who you also date casually, and who started calling himself your boyfriend last week, and the aforementioned ex's Parisian lover/girlfriend/informal paramour and you've pretty much got a recipe for disaster.

Rory appreciated that there was a fairly good chance of this ending poorly, but when it came to this particular risk taker she always found it difficult to shy away. She knew that she had to decide where she wanted to take her rekindled relationship with Logan and with a tipsy form of bravery she clutched her phone and stood.

"Sorry, I gotta take this." She said to the room and no one in particular. "I'll be right back."

She presses down to return a call as she walks towards the bathroom and closes the door firmly behind her.

"Hey Ace. Happy birthday. You having fun?"

"Hey yourself. Thank you, I'm just at my grandparents. They threw me a little party. What are you doing up so late?" Rory looked at the clock on the wall showing 8.15pm, making it 1.15am in London.

"I have been in a succession of the most horrifically boring and lengthy meetings you could possibly imagine since 10am this morning. The day was a success, firstly because we've managed to prove that human beings can survive such monotonous and inane bullshit with only a relatively small portion of sanity being lost; but additionally because everybody got what they wanted out of the deal which meant that everybody then had the ambition to drink their body weight in scotch and gin at a karaoke bar in Soho. I managed to duck out early but I've only just got home. I didn't want to miss the chance to wish you a happy birthday." He sounds tired but she can practically hear his self-assured smile.

"Well aren't you the gentleman, giving up rambunctious gin-soaked businessmen for me?" Rory teased, still not quite believing that she had Logan back in her life, in whatever capacity this was she didn't know, but for now she didn't need to. She had missed their banter, the friendship, the flirting. "You sure know how to make a girl feel special."

"You know how special you are." He breathed, his voice slow and low. "Did you get my gift?"

She felt her cheeks redden faintly at his suggestive tone. "No, not yet. Sorry. You sent me a gift?"

"I sent it to your mom's house, I didn't have your address in New York and I didn't want to seem like a crazy stalker if I tracked it down by illicit means."

"I haven't been home yet. I came straight to Hartford from Chicago this afternoon."

"Ah the Windy City. Chasing a story?"

"Aren't I always?" Rory smiled into the phone, feeling more at ease and relaxed than she had done in weeks, since the last time she saw him. Granted, it was probably a lot to do with the tequila but she was sure that Logan had a least a little something to do with it. "I'll get it when I go back tonight. Thank you."

"You don't even know what it is yet."

"I don't have to. It's a gift from you, it's bound to be a home run."

"Check you out with the sports metaphors."

"Hey I'm a serious reporter now, gotta keep up with the lingo." Rory teased herself and giggled.

"You sound happy Ace. And happy sounds good on you."

"You mean I sound drunk, which I am. But only a little bit. I think it's the margaritas."

Logan laughed on an inward breath and shook his head. "Woah, the Gilmores clearly do not know what they're letting themselves in for liquoring you up with margaritas. I remember what tequila does to you and that Rory Gilmore should definitely not be at dinner with her grandparents." He closed his eyes as he savoured the memory of that particularly enjoyable night back in New Haven.

They had gone out for dinner – Mexican – and washed it down with margaritas and a few tequila slammers. They had barely made it through the door of his apartment before Rory was stripping them both down and begging Logan to bend her over the pool table.

She had never before (and rarely since to be truthful) felt so brazen and sexually confident. Her rational mind knows that it was because she was branching out on her own, independent from her mother in a terrifying but necessary way for the first time ever. She and Logan were in a good place in their relationship, he made he feel free whilst knowing she was secure and safe with him enabling her to mature sexually, realising what she liked and what she wanted. But another part of her mind decided to blame the potent liquor and she could never look at a bottle of Don Julio in the same way again.

Rory blushed at their shared recollection and let her eyelids flutter shut as she leaned back on the closed door, exhaling with frustration. "Well there's no imminent danger tonight. I'm just with the family. Riding solo."

He wasn't about to let that double entendre go. "Oh plenty can happen when you're riding solo." This isn't exactly the tone he had imagined this conversation would take when he called but he wasn't about to derail it now.

"Logan …" she warned, but only barely. She could just imagine the smirk that he wore on his face at that moment and she wanted nothing more than to kiss it off. She hadn't realised how tightly wound this conversation was making her, her free hand had come to rest on her silk covered hip and she was just about resisting the urge to slip it under her dress and do something that would surely make her feel embarrassed in the morning.

Logan shifted in his seat on the couch, getting desperate for some form of friction. "I can't stop thinking about Hamburg. You were amazing Ace. I don't think there is a prettier sight in the world than you dropping that red dress on my hotel room floor." He takes a breath to compose himself, he called to wish her a happy birthday, not to initiate transatlantic phone sex during the first phone call they've shared in years.

Well, in truth, he also called because he was desperate to hear her voice. To remind him that what happened a few weeks ago wasn't just a (very elaborate, very R-rated) fantasy he had concocted inside his own mind. Because he had dreamed up some similar scenarios in the years they had been apart and in his weaker moments, he began to worry that, just as she had done when he met her at Yale, Rory Gilmore was once again diminishing his sanity.

There was a part of him, most likely the part still bruised and vulnerable from their break-up, that half-expected to never hear from her again after their rendezvous in Germany. He had tried to prepare himself for this outcome, telling himself that it was the closure that they both probably needed and that any continuation of their relationship would open up old wounds he had long been attempting to heal. There was just one problem, Logan was pretty sure he didn't want closure with Rory. So when he came across an article on the 'Top 10 Things To See And Do In Hamburg', he forwarded it to her before he gave himself a chance not to. Her response – _I don't know, I think what I saw and did was better xx_ – not only made him choke on his drink but assured him that she wasn't looking for closure either.

"Do you remember what we talked about, maybe meeting up if I'm ever in London?" Rory asked an innocent enough question but the timbre of her voice betrayed her.

"Of course, how could I forget?"

"Well there's this article for the HuffPost that I keep meaning to follow up on and it would bring me to London at the end of next week if you'll be around."

"I'm around." He answered, quicker than was probably necessary. "I can show you the sights, take you out to dinner, there's this great exhibition at the British Library that you would love …"

"Logan." Rory interrupts him, her voice a sultry whisper. "Is that really what you want to do to me while I'm in London, take me to dinner?"

"Rory …" It's his turn to warn now.

"Ooh, it must be getting serious, you just 'Rory-ed' me."

"You're at dinner with your grandparents, your mom, I don't even know who else."

"The usual, Luke, a few friends, Lane … Paris is here too."

"Well that's a sufficient mood killer." Logan stood and began slowly pacing the living room, trying to shrug off any residual tension.

Rory chuckled softly. "So … I guess I should get back to the party."

"That's probably a sensible idea." He sighed. Ending this call was the sensible idea, his head was screaming at him to do it before he went too far down the path of no return. Unfortunately, other parts of his anatomy were less interested in what was wise and reasonable.

Rory caught her breath and chewed on her bottom lip. "I'll text you my flight details when I have them?"

"Definitely. If I can't be there to meet you, I'll send a car for you at the airport."

"Logan, you don't have to do that."

"Ace, it's no trouble and I want to." He declared. "I'll make sure I get some decent coffee in … and maybe some tequila." He added cheekily after a pause.

Rory gasped softly. "Bye Logan. Thanks for calling, and for the gift."

"Bye Ace. Happy birthday."

She was about to hang up but something stopped her, that brazen college girl rearing her head again. "Oh and Logan …?"

"Yeah?"

"Think of me tonight?" She murmured, her words full of promise and possibility.

She heard his breath catch in his throat, could practically hear his heartbeat quicken. "Count on it."

She hung up and Logan collapsed on the couch. Yep, she was definitely going to kill him.

Rory attempted to compose herself and exited the room, pulling the door closed behind her before turning to see her mother walking in her direction.

"There you are. I was about to send out a search party." Lorelai said. "Everything okay?"

"Yeah of course. Just had to take a call real quick."

"Loverboy?" Lorelai jibed in a singsong voice.

"What? Who? No!" Rory answered, a little too defensively.

"Well you're looking pretty flushed kid. What's his name again, the guy you met at that work thing?"

Rory really had to search her arousal addled brain for the answer. "Oh Paul. It's just been a couple of dates (it's been nearly a year but in this moment Rory is struggling to remember the last time she saw him, let alone the first), it's nothing serious."

"Okay, I'll take your word for it, but thousands wouldn't. The look on your face says otherwise."

Lorelai links her arm through Rory's and leads her back towards the festivities. "Another strawberry marg for the birthday girl?"

Rory shook her head firmly, attempting to banish the residual thoughts of Logan from her mind. "No, definitely no more margaritas."

* * *

Logan kept his promise and when she arrived at his home in London the following week there was indeed plenty of coffee (and a lone bottle of tequila) awaiting her. Rory took one look at the liquor and pulled Logan in for a bruising kiss. "I don't think I'll be needing that," she pledged before tugging at his tie and getting him to lead her to his bed.


	3. Part 3

Chapter title from 'Style' by Taylor Swift.

* * *

 **Part 3**

 _ **when we go crashing down, we come back every time**_

It's been 6 months since Rory first visited Logan in London and since then, she has been finding more and more reasons to pick up work on the other side of the pond. Her trips are usually relatively brief, just a few days at a time, but are becoming increasingly frequent and they usually don't go for longer than 3 weeks without seeing each other these days. It has occurred to them both that they see more of each other than they do of their supposed significant others but luckily for them, both Rory and Logan are quite skilled at selfish compartmentalisation and are utilising it to their full advantage.

Logan hasn't questioned her too exhaustively on her apparent mounting interest in British journalism – he doesn't dare, as much as he likes to believe that she's there to be with him (of course that's her reason, isn't it?), he's not certain if his ego (or his heart) could take the mauling of another rejection from her.

Every time they say goodbye and pause, looking into each other's eyes for a moment too long; and every time they're about to stumble into a genuine conversation about _them_ , it's like a light goes off inside Rory's head and she switches to the nonchalant persona she's taken to assuming lately. Every time she plasters her best cavalier smile on her face and reminds him about _**"Vegas"**_ with a wink or a coy grin, he does his best to mirror back at her, but inside he knows the truth. He knows that he hates Vegas, their ridiculous agreement, which at the time he naively agreed to but which now, he reprimands himself regularly for.

But also the city, which he now despises also. She has ruined Vegas for him. What was once a vacation pinnacle of extravagance and recklessness, is now a depressing reminder that he has willingly entered into a no-strings-attached long-distance arrangement with the only woman he's ever truly loved and within which he is trapped by his own cowardice. Yeah, he really fucking hates Vegas.

When he told her that he was coming back to the States for work, she insisted that she repay the favour in giving him a place to stay for a few nights ("It's not exactly the Plaza but I know where all the best takeout places are. Plus, avoiding sticking to the wall is an assault course in itself, you'll barely miss your gym membership."). It was certainly going to be a less luxurious experience than when she stayed with him in his immaculate Mayfair home; but Rory had never felt the need to be embarrassed in front of Logan. He knew who she was, what she did for a living, and her apartment wasn't anything she would be ashamed of.

He had gone straight into a full day of meetings from the plane and then taken a car out to her place in Brooklyn as soon as his workday was over. She met him at the door with an enormous grin and a glass of scotch and pulled him towards her bedroom. Logan knew that he could very easily get used to coming home to a welcome like this.

He had enjoyed the chance to explore her home the previous evening, though can you really call it her home if she barely spends half her time there? There are a few photos scattered around the apartment – Rory with Lorelai, her graduation photo with her grandparents, Lane's boys, Paris' children – but little else to show that Rory lives there. Other than the 3 bookshelves full of tomes, that is. Those are all Rory.

They'd ordered pizza and watched TV in bed before Logan had succumbed to jetlag and general fatigue. When he woke the next morning, he wasn't as disoriented as he could have been, the familiar smell of Rory surrounding him and her warm body touching his bringing him to his senses quite quickly.

Logan had hopped into the shower and so Rory padded into the kitchen to put a pot of coffee on, bringing two steaming cups back into the bedroom with her. Her phone rings – it's Lane – and she begins to chat absentmindedly to her childhood friend about Hep Alien's recent ventures. She is vaguely aware of the sound of the water shutting off but then Lane continues to describe their gig from the previous night.

"Rory, you gotta call your super about this shower. I'm taking my life in my own hands even stepping under it." Logan calls out loudly.

"What was that?" Lane interjects.

"Nothing." Rory mutters hurriedly.

"Hey Ace, what do you want for breakfast?" Logan emerges from the bathroom and Rory is momentarily distracted by the sight of him with nothing but a towel loosely wrapped around his waist. How on earth he looked better in his thirties than he did in college she had yet to decipher.

She holds her finger to her lips to shush him but it's too late.

"Who was that?" Lane asks.

"No one."

"Rory, I can hear someone else there." She pressed on, why was Rory lying to her?

Rory tried to think quickly. "It's just Pete."

Lane does not sound convinced. "I thought your boyfriend's name is Paul. Hold on, did I hear him call you Ace?"

Rory begins to panic, this cannot happen. No one can find out about this, if someone finds out then it's going to spiral and before you know it everyone will know. She's not sure if she's ready for everyone to know. Hell, she has no idea what there is for people to know – are they just sleeping together? Are they in a relationship (excluding the ones they're in with other people)? Are they having an affair?

Whatever it is, she knows that she's not ready for it to alter, not just yet. And she is undoubtedly not ready for it to end, which is what logic dictates will happen when their secret is out. She needs this private, safe space with Logan to be protected for a while longer. Just until she's ready to decide what to do.

"Lane. Um … look can I call you back later?"

"Rory. Is Logan there? What is going on?" She is met with silence. "Rory, it's me, you can tell me anything."

Rory feels the guilt spread throughout her. Lane is her best friend and has been for practically her whole life. They've shared secrets, truths, lies, successes, heartbreaks and losses. And they've always stuck by each other, she cannot stop trusting Lane now. Besides, it might be nice to have someone to talk to about the complete mindfuck that she seems to be going through. She's considered telling Paris (after she quizzed her on her numerous trips to London) but with her current difficulties with Doyle and Paris' insecurities regarding his fidelity, Rory thought it best to not mention that she is for all intents and purposes cheating on her own boyfriend.

She takes a deep breath and squeezes her eyes shut. "Yes, Logan's here. I promise I will explain it all to you in person when I'm next in Stars Hollow. For now, can you please promise that you won't say anything to anyone. Especially my mom."

Logan winces at her words. They're a reminder that what they're doing, what they have, is not serious, it's not worthwhile to her. It's not even worth telling her mother about, her primary confidante. In fact, she actively lies about them, he knows that as far as Lorelai is concerned he is a young female British reporter named Deedee who is kind enough to lend Rory her couch when she is in town.

Rory sees the hurt on his face and she wishes she could take those last words back. She remembers how surprised Logan was when she told him that her mother had no idea about the pair of them. What he doesn't realise yet is that Rory and Lorelai are not in each other's pockets to the same degree as they once were. They still are (and probably always will be) closer than most mothers and daughters, but the significant geographical distance between them has understandably affected their relationship. Besides, for years now Lorelai has had Luke to confide in and depend on; and for Rory – though she's not ready to admit it, Logan is quickly taking on that role for her again too.

"Of course." Lane answers immediately. "I'll still be keeping your secrets on my deathbed, Rory Gilmore, you must know that."

Rory smiles warmly, how she got so lucky to have a friend like Lane she will never understand. "Thanks Lane."

"So I guess I should let you get back to whatever it is you're doing that I can't wait to hear all about. Call me soon?"

"Absolutely, give those boys a kiss from me. Maybe not Zack, but definitely Brian" she teased.

Lane laughed. "I'll see what I can do. Bye."

"Bye." Rory hung up and met Logan's gaze as he leaned against the doorframe. "Sorry about that."

"Don't be, I'm sorry. I didn't realise you were on the phone. I should have been more quiet." He apologised, worry starting to fill his mind. He knew this day was inevitable, when _this_ couldn't be keep between the two of them anymore, and he worried that this could be all the incentive Rory would need to bolt.

Rory sits on the bed, still staring at her phone, willing herself to take back the last few moments. Wishing that everything could go back to how it was before she'd spoken to Lane. She knows that this is going to change things between them, she knows that once she starts talking to Lane about her current predicament that she's going to start second-guessing herself at every turn (even more so than she is already).

"Let's just forget that that ever happened. I'll talk to Lane but we don't need to worry about her saying anything."

"Rory," he pleaded.

"Logan, let's just leave it. We're in Vegas right, so let's just enjoy Vegas."

That's when he sees it - the carefree façade masking her emotions returns as she takes a deep breath, attempting to push her doubts to the furthest recesses of her mind, drops the phone on the sheets and stands to kiss him. Deeply, fiercely, leaving him with no doubt that she considers this subject closed.

* * *

Somehow, they managed to move past Rory's conversation with Lane and were reasonably successful in pretending that their secret wasn't out and that it didn't terrify them both. Compartmentalization and denial were working overtime for them both once again. They had gone out for brunch before Logan had to go to the office for another meeting and Rory took the opportunity to drop in on a couple of editors while she was in Manhattan. With her freelance work rapidly drying up (which she was desperately trying to not worry about. Energy she probably should be using to just write.), it couldn't hurt to keep her contacts sweet. He picked her up on the way back to Brooklyn and they went for a dinner at a small bistro a few blocks from her apartment.

Logan returned from the bathroom as Rory was finishing off the last of the wine from her glass.

"Your phone rang while you were gone, apparently Dolores Umbridge is desperate to get hold of you." She remarked as his phone began to vibrate again on the table.

"Oh crap!" He groaned.

"Your mom?"

"Who else?"

"You're such a dork." She laughed, knowing that he and Honor had a habit of giving their overbearing parents uncouth nicknames.

"She must know I'm here … on the East Coast, not _here_ here," he clarified at Rory's alarmed stare.

Their attention was drawn to the flashing smart phone in front of them as it began to ring yet again as soon as it ended.

"She's persistent."

"That's one word, of many, for her." Logan groaned again. "I should call her back, she won't stop calling otherwise," he stood to take it outside.

"I'll get the check and meet you out the front?"

He nodded and leaned down to kiss her briefly before leaving the restaurant.

* * *

Rory unlocked the door to her apartment and allowed Logan to follow her inside. He'd barely said two words to her on the walk home, his phone call with his mother obviously hadn't gone well but the reasons why were a mystery to her.

They shrugged off their jackets and Rory tugged him towards the couch. "You want to tell me what's wrong?" She raised gently.

Logan releases a guttural sigh, as if the words emerging from his mouth physically hurt him. "Apparently, I'm getting engaged."

Rory tries to mask her shock, her disdain, her heartache, but she's too late. Pain flashes in her eyes and the tears waiting there sting.

"Oh," she finally says, "wow". He tries to reach for her hand but she recoils and if it were possible for his heart to break any further then that action would be the one to do it.

"It's not what I want but …" he begins, desperately trying to find the right words.

He's not sure if the right words even exist for these circumstances. His parents have been dropping fairly obvious hints for a while that they expect him to settle down, but he didn't really believe they would attempt to strong-arm him into an actual engagement. He'd always known that this is what he should expect from his life, a semi-arranged marriage to a respectable (read: old money) society girl but as time wore on he naively assumed that he might get to choose his own wife (or no wife at all the way his love life seemed to be going). Since Rory came back into his life especially he has been fooling himself into thinking his path was far less predetermined than it actually is. To say his mother's call came as a shock was an understatement.

Rory watches him fidget, wringing his hands together in nervousness.

"I guess I should say 'congratulations'." The word tastes sour in her mouth.

"Rory, listen -"

"When?" she interrupts him.

"I don't know. I'm sure there'll be some sort of announcement soon and probably a party, of course." He's responding on autopilot, the thought of an official engagement still a foreign concept in his head.

"No, I mean when will you get married?" She spits out the words like they're poison.

"I have no idea. Never, hopefully."

"What?" she asks, genuinely confused.

"It's business, it's a set-up, it's not real. I don't actually want to marry her."

"Well that's charming."

"Hey, it's mutual. Odette doesn't want to marry me either. We'll have to find a way to get out of it." Without speaking to her, Logan knew that his sometime girlfriend would be as delighted with this development as he was.

"Hold on, so why are you getting engaged?"

"Apparently we've been dating for the appropriate length of time and this is what happens next. My mom's putting together a guest list, my dad's drawing up the pre-nup. Got to establish the future of the Huntzberger dynasty. It's so fucking archaic, it boils down to a business transaction, just an exchange of goods. That's what I'm worth."

He sounds hurt, discussing his parents' penchant for treating him as nothing other than a commodity, but Rory cannot concentrate on anything other than his declaration – he is getting engaged. But yet here he is, in her apartment, where that morning they'd been drinking coffee and laughing at Buzzfeed articles while she wore his shirt and not a lot else. How can he possibly be here, with her, _being_ with her so intimately and comfortably when he has a fiancée, or a fiancée to be, waiting on the other side of the ocean?

She feels as if there is no air in her lungs, as if her breath has been stolen from her but she manages to sputter out some words regardless.

"I guess you should probably go, get back to your _fiancée_."

"Rory …" he rolls his eyes at her resentful tone.

"No! You do not get to 'Rory' me. You tell me that you're getting engaged but what, I'm supposed to act like it's no big deal, like this is how normal people behave?!" She shoots up from the couch in anger.

"Since when do you want normal?" He stands to match her stance, his shock quickly being displaced by defensiveness. "This was your idea – keeping it casual, no strings, 'what happens in Vegas'!"

"I didn't exactly have to twist your arm to persuade you though did I? And you've certainly been reaping the benefits of our arrangement." She adds bitterly, her mind a swarming mess of devastation and resentment. If he's getting married does that make her the dirty mistress?!

"Don't try to act like this is just abut sex." He shakes his head forcefully and steps back to put some distance between them.

"What else could it be about? After all, she's the one who you flaunt at society events, she's the one your family approves of, she's the one good enough to marry! I'm just the one you screw in secret!" Rory shouts, her arms flailing wildly.

"Don't you dare!" Logan barks, pointing at her accusingly. "I asked you to marry me, you're the one who said 'no'. **You**."

This is it. Big, flashing lights with sirens blaring are going off in both their heads. Their one (unspoken) rule. The one thing that was absolutely, 100%, completely off limits to discuss – The Proposal.

She can't help it, all the buried pain accumulated since that day rises to the surface and her biting words fly out of her mouth before she can stop them.

"Yeah, well when you didn't get the exact answer you wanted after springing it on me out of nowhere, what did you do Logan?! Oh that's right, you gave up and walked away like the spoilt brat you are, leaving me crying in my graduation gown. I was devastated." Rory didn't even realise she was crying until she stopped screaming at him and she hastily tried to wipe her tears away.

"Wow. How long have you been waiting to say that?" He shakes his head, sighing despondently.

Logan has to bite down on his tongue to keep his own tears at bay, seeing Rory crying only makes it harder. He doesn't think he'll ever get over how it felt when he realised that she wasn't going to say 'yes'. No vicious dressing down from his family or any authority figure has ever made him feel as utterly worthless as when he recognised that he would never be good enough for her. He turned and walked away from her because he didn't know if he could stop himself from crumbling at her feet and begging her to stay with him if he looked into her eyes for a moment longer. It has been pointed out to him in the last eight years that though she rejected his proposal, he should have explored the option of them dating long-distance again, but in those moments all he heard was 'no' and all he felt was indescribable, all-consuming, suffocating heartbreak.

He tries to reach out to her, wanting to pull her into his arms and make everything okay again (he's not sure if this situation was ever okay to begin with) but she flinches away from his touch.

"I think you should go." She snivels through the remnants of her tears.

"Rory …" he pleads with her.

"I can't talk about this Logan. Please, just get your stuff and go."

She means it, she really can't talk about this. Does he have any idea how much resolve it takes for her to not scream at him how differently she wishes things had gone for them that day? How she wishes she had reacted differently when faced with his expectant eyes, an engagement ring and a room full of people staring at her? How she wished she had gone with him to talk things through that night, rather than running off with her mother? Mostly, how she wished they had talked more about their future before he felt the urge to surprise her with a proposal?!

He wants to tell her that no, they have to talk about this, but he has never been good at confrontations like this (the emotional kind, physical confrontation he is decidedly at ease with) and he can't handle the pain in her tone and the still-rolling tears on her face. He hates himself for being the one to put them there. He sighs dejectedly and retreats into her bedroom to gather his things.

When she hears him exiting the room, she moves to stand in front of the closed apartment door, effectively blocking his way out.

He looks surprised at her position and drops his bags onto the floor gently, assuming that their conversation is yet from over.

"So … is this it? Are we ending this? Should be pretend it never happened?" Rory asks softly.

"It's up to you." Logan moves towards her.

"No, I think it's up to you, you're the one with the _fiancée_." She repeats the word like it's a curse.

"Well what does your boyfriend think of this?" She looks at him blankly. "Your Valentine's Day card from him is still stuck to your fridge Rory!"

Her eyes dart to the kitchen and the offending piece of card. Damn it. She hadn't even realised that was there.

"He's not … it's not like that," she struggles to explain herself. "It's not what you think … it's not like me and you." She's not even fully sure what she means by that (she does know, she means she doesn't love him.). "Can we just not talk about him?"

He nods, but only barely.

"What do _you_ want?" Rory raises her head to watch him.

"I want to be here with you." he expresses earnestly, looking into her eyes. Please let her understand, he pleads with himself, let her see that I mean that I want to be with her, wherever she is. That I will give her anything she wants, I will do whatever she wants. All she has to do is ask.

She can't take the intensity of his gaze, his words, the emotion radiating off of him. Instead she concentrates on his hands, one at her waist and the other cradling the back of her head. She can't handle the strength of this situation but she can reciprocate his touch. This they can do, always have.

They stand in front of the closed door, holding each other, her hands clutching to him like he's her life jacket.

"What do you want?" He whispers.

"I don't want this to end." She answers honestly. Her heart begs her to continue, to say that she wants to be with him, that she loves him, that she never stopped and that what she needs more than anything in this moment is for him to say that he feels the same.

But she remembers the hurt etched on his face the day he walked away from her on the Yale lawn; the same look his features held just moments earlier as they conducted their screaming match. She remembers the nights she spent sobbing into her pillow in various motels on the Obama campaign because she missed him so much her body ached.

She decides that they can't be together like before, because if it goes wrong (and her track record denotes that's what will happen), they can't handle another goodbye like that. Instead, she kids herself and pretends that if they continue as they have been, that they can stop themselves from getting in too deep. If she really tries, she just might start to believe it too.

"I don't want this to end either … " Logan starts and he gathers up the courage to keep on. To tell her that he wants to break things off with Odette and be with her. That it is an easy call for him and he'd do it in a heartbeat. But he desperately needs her to say that that's what she wants too. He can't handle any more leaps into the unknown when it comes to commitment, he barely survived the emotional battle last time and he still has the scars to show for it.

"So … we can carry on, like this. What happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas?" she asks timidly.

No, I hate Vegas, he thinks to himself, I hate sharing you with some faceless man I've never met, I hate only having you for a few days at a time and constantly having to say goodbye. But, looking into those blue eyes that could melt even the stoniest of hearts, as usual he can't say 'no' to her.

"Sure. What happens in Vegas." He answers reluctantly.

* * *

She feigns mild surprise and nonchalance when she hears of Logan's engagement, every time she hears of it. By the time her grandmother, her mother and Paris have all brought it up with her she is a pro at indifference and though they all seem to see through it to varying degrees (and she is pretty sure that Lorelai is starting to suspect that it is more pleasure than business that keeps bringing her back to London), they all accept her reluctance to discuss the matter further.

After all, it's no big deal that he's technically engaged to someone else. When he meets her at the arrivals gate when she next lands in Heathrow, she rushes towards him and he kisses her passionately, just like always, and neither of them mention Odette, Paul or proposals.

If they stick to the rules (repeat _what happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas_ ad infinitum), they can't go wrong and they can't get hurt.

* * *

 **A/N:** I keep re-editing this chapter as I'm not thrilled with how it turned out; sticking to the canon we saw in the revival and attempting to fill in the blanks, whilst remaining faithful to who Rory and Logan were in the original series is difficult. I struggle to see how they could have been together but not had real conversations about their situation and then resolved their feelings for each other. Anyway, I'll keep trying and hopefully I'll be able to explain/resolve it in a meaningful way.

Thanks again for the lovely feedback and apologies that this got quite long.


	4. Part 4

Chapter title from 'Wonderwall' by Oasis – an oldie but lyrically this song is timeless.

* * *

 **Part 4**

 _ **there are many things that I would like to say to you but I don't know how**_

Rory is 'this close' to asking Logan to be with her when Grandpa dies. To begging him to finish with Odette and come to her, to love her again. To telling him that he is everything she's ever wanted and that she has been an idiot to try and see him casually. To telling her mom, and Luke, and her grandmother that yes, she's been with Logan again for nearly a year and that she doesn't care what they think. She composes a break-up text to Paul but is called away before she can send it and when she goes back to her phone later, the draft message is gone and dozens of messages of condolence take up space in her consciousness instead.

She is 'this close' and then everything comes crashing down. The reality of the beloved man's death hits and Emily crumbles. She is a sobbing wreck on the floor and when Lorelai attempts to help her up, she yields to shock and grief also. Rory watches the two most important women in her life, and quite possibly the two strongest women that she has ever met fall to pieces; and rather than disintegrate herself, rather than submit to the anguish of loss; she finds an ability to insulate her pain that she didn't know she possessed.

Instead, she detaches from her own feelings and focuses purely on being there for Lorelai and Emily. Between herself and Luke, they support the two women emotionally and practically any way they can and before too long, the sombre errands associated with her grandfather's death begin to accumulate and give Rory something to concentrate on.

Eventually, later that night she takes a moment alone with a large glass of wine and calls Logan. He had called her 5 times since she had briefly messaged him with the news, left 3 voicemails and 7 texts. Rory listened to and read them all, allowing herself to cry at his caring, supportive, perfect sentiments, before she dialled his number.

"Hey." He answers on the first ring, despite it being sometime after 3am in the morning. He hadn't slept all night, too anxious to hear back from her.

"Hey." She whimpered slowly before bringing the wine glass back to her lips. "Thank you for the messages."

"Of course. How are you doing?"

"Like you'd expect." She replied after a breath, the pauses punctuating their greetings a welcome, calming silence for her.

The raspy sound of her defeated voice is breaking his heart.

"Rory, I can be on a plane and be with you by lunchtime."

"Logan, no. There's too much going on … and I just can't."

"Ace … I will do anything you need." He offers, he doesn't want to push but being so far away from her when she is hurting like this is too much for him. It's selfish, but he wants nothing more than to be able to hold her.

She sniffs back fresh tears, desperate to offload. "It is a circus right now, I can't breathe for more people coming out of the woodwork. I have to keep things calm for Grandma. My mom's trying to but she's a mess too."

"Let me be there, let me help."

"I can't, please Logan. Please understand. If you're here, it will only incite more questions and I don't have the answers right now." (Have I ever had the answers? She muses.)

He is quiet for a long time, he doesn't want to admit that she's right. He wants to take over, to rush to her side and do whatever needs organising and damn the consequences. By her side is where he's supposed to be … or is it? He eyes the invitation to a charity event in Paris that he is supposed to attend with Odette next month. So far he's successfully putting off any discussion of potential wedding dates and venues, but he is still officially engaged to another woman.

He keeps trying to give Rory an excuse to tell him to leave Odette, to leave London, to be with her – but she never takes any of them. This is what she wants right now, maybe this is all she'll ever want. That thought is like an icy knife in his gut bringing him back to reality.

"What can I do?" he asks eventually.

"Will you just stay on the phone with me for a while? I have so much to arrange and I can't focus my thoughts right now."

"Of course, anything." And he means it, he would give her anything.

So he listens. He listens as she depicts Richard Gilmore's final days; as she relays the tasks she has taken upon herself to organise; he listens as she cries explaining how distraught her mother and grandmother are; she describes some of her favourite memories of her grandfather and he softly chuckles, reassures and soothes at all the appropriate moments.

He feels as if he isn't doing anything, certainly not doing enough; but for her, it is everything and it's just about the only thing keeping her afloat.

* * *

Rory stares out of the moving car window on the way to the airport, trying to concentrate on keeping her breathing steady, just like the Youtube meditation video taught her. Count to 5 as you inhale, then count to 5 exhale. To say the last couple of weeks had been draining would be an understatement, she could feel the adrenaline wearing thin as her near constant fight-or-flight response started to fatigue. The funeral had gone well, as well as these things are wont to do anyway, and there had been a wonderful turnout for Grandpa, which she hoped in time would be of some comfort to her grandmother. Receiving so many kind condolences and hearing tales from his past from friends and colleagues had comforted her a little at least.

Luke's voice from the driver's seat breaks Rory out of her reverie.

"I know you must be sad to have to leave your mom and grandma. But we know how your job is. We're all so proud of you and how hard you're working."

Rory felt immense guilt flood her. She wasn't sad to be leaving them behind (I mean, she was obviously, she was sad about practically everything at this precise time. She assumed that this was grief, or at least the stage she was currently experiencing); it's just that she had been managing her mom's grief and Grandma's grief since it had happened and she really, really needed to cope with her own for a while. She needed her own pillar to lean on, to hold her up for a little while, and that pillar was currently waiting for her on the other side of the Atlantic.

She tried not to think too deeply as to what that meant, her leaning on Logan, her desperation to see him. She had been excited to see him each time since they'd reunited in Hamburg but she assumed that to be largely rooted in attraction and excitement, a desire to indulge in their (physical _and_ intellectual) chemistry.

They had moved on since their fight in the spring, both outwardly acting as if it didn't happen, both choosing to ignore the emotional implications of their time together. They go out for drinks and dinner; they see shows on the West End; tour the museums; other times they stay in watching TV or reading; they each work on their respective laptops on opposite sides of the couch, occasionally stealing glances at the other. They have forged their own version of normal, unmistakably less casual than their first few months of 'Vegas' visits, but all the while both trying to not get too attached.

But this, this was different, she was starting to need him like she used to need him. When she felt as if she couldn't fully breathe if she wasn't near him. Those months they spent separated with him in London and her at Yale were excruciating at times and this was starting to feel very similar. And that was more than a little bit terrifying.

She had obviously been silent for longer than she thought as Luke continued to reassure her.

"They'll be fine. I'm here for your mom and I'll do whatever I can for Emily too. I know it doesn't feel like it now but it will all be okay."

Rory turned in her seat to face him. "What would we do without you?" she wondered sadly, and not for the first time. She supposes that losing a father figure will do that to you, make you re-evaluate the others who have always been there for you and helped make you who you are.

"You never have to worry about that." He replies sincerely and they share a poignant smile.

* * *

Rory exits the terminal in London, having caught a little sleep but not nearly enough on the flight. The sun is just rising in the early morning sky and she knows that she will be suffering from jet lag as the day goes on. She once again ponders Luke's sentiments from their car journey and has to try and block them out. They are all so terribly proud of her and won't stop telling her so. They act as if every word she has published is pure gold and either don't realise, or pretend that they don't, how many fewer words she seems to be having published recently. She knows that she has to get a grip on her career, to bring some heart back into her writing, but she accepts that it's probably not going to happen right away, certainly not before she's allowed herself time to mourn.

She slips into the car Logan has sent for her, she made him promise not to greet her at the airport as she's not sure she could keep it together and she has had quite enough of public grieving lately. The driver asks if she is alright, taking in her black attire, puffy eyes and solemn expression and as she nods she once again appreciates that she has his home as her bolt hole to retreat to. They have spoken on the phone every day - sometimes more than once a day - since Richard's death and she is so grateful that she won't have to go over all the details again. Logan already knows, he's already lived it with her despite being (reluctantly) 3,500 miles away.

She lets herself into the apartment that he'd left unlocked for her, securing the door behind her and leaves her coat and shoes where she usually drops them by the front door. She considers making some coffee but instead just grabs a glass of water from the kitchen before making her way upstairs. She places her bags by the couch, checking that all of her cell phones are switched to silent. It's so comfortable for her here, so familiar, and it occurs to her that she shouldn't feel as at home here as she does, she has no right, but she can't contemplate that too much right now. She slips her dress off, pulls on one of his t-shirts and crawls into bed next to him. She finally lets out the breath she has been holding in when he pulls her close.

"Are you okay?" Logan whispers sleepily.

"Yeah." Rory's breath hitches. "I'm fine."

"Your grandfather was a good man, I know you made him proud today." Rory shudders into Logan's chest and starts to sob quietly.

It didn't feel right for Logan, not attending Richard's funeral. Not only because he wasn't there for Rory, and he was regretting that more and more as she lay crying in his arms; but also because he knew Richard, would consider him a friend and wanted to pay his respects to the man, and to Emily. However, Rory had begged him not to go, and so he didn't. He had started to wonder how much he was doing lately because Rory wanted (or didn't want) him to.

"I should have come, I wanted to be there for you." He mumbles into her hair as he strokes her back soothingly.

"You know I told you not to. If you were there, I couldn't have …" she trails off before inhaling deeply. "I had to be there for Grandma and for my mom today and … if you were there, I couldn't have not been with you."

Logan tilts her head up to meet his gaze head on. "Ace, I would have been there for you today. I don't care if people saw, I don't care what they think. I will do anything for you, don't you know that by now?"

He wants to say more, he wants to tell her he loves her. He does, he knows that he loves her, she should know it too.

It's the moments like this when Rory looks into his eyes, those beautiful soulful expressive eyes that she can read so well, when he's baring everything to her and it all gets too real. It's too much and she just can't do this now, not today. She can't do this, she can't change what they are, what they have, right now. Not when everything else has changed, her family and universe have shifted. He opens his mouth to continue and she silences him with a kiss. A kiss that she pours just about every ounce of emotion and energy that remains in her into and within a matter of moments she's straddling him and pulling at his shirt.

He knows that she's avoiding the topic at hand, that she doesn't want to acknowledge what he said and what it implied. He would be with her, fully, properly, publically at any given moment. All she has to do is say the word. But no words are spoken. She asks him for passion, for closeness, for physical intimacy instead and he's not about to start denying her anything now. He reciprocates her kisses and touches, knowing that for now, for him, this is enough. Any part of her that he can have is enough. It has to be.

When they wake later on that day, there's no mention of his promises as she demands a fresh pot of the exquisite Columbian blend he keeps stocked in the kitchen for her. They make (late) breakfast together, eat it half dressed tangled up in each other on the couch while they catch up on the day's news on their respective tablets. It's very domestic and very comfortable while they don't think about the invisible timer counting down until she leaves again. When 'Vegas' is put on hold and they can both carry on pretending that this is casual, that this is discreet, that this is harmless and that no one will get hurt. Mostly they just want to pretend that this is something that it's not. Because it's real and that wasn't part of the agreement.

* * *

 **A/N:** There is no doubt in my mind that Logan would certainly have attended Richard's funeral (whether he and Rory were seeing each other or not). Alas, I didn't write AYITL so I have to work around the blatant discrepancies.

Your reviews have been so kind, and also thought provoking, so thank you again.


	5. Part 5

**A/N:** This chapter got quite long, so apologies for that. I am going to be continuing this throughout and post-AYITL and I have it all outlined so I'll endeavour to update as soon as I can. For now, this takes Rory and Logan up to the beginning of ' _Winter_ '.

Chapter title from 'Everlong' by the Foo Fighters.

* * *

 **Part 5**

 _ **if everything could ever feel this real forever**_

Logan collects his briefcase from his desk and smiles at the twinkling lights on the Christmas tree in front of the window. He would usually switch them off before leaving for work but Rory was insistent that Christmas lights must stay on constantly day and night to keep the festive magic alive. He had laughed and considered answering back but thought better of it, so what if the bulbs blew by the end of the season and he had to throw them out? He'd buy new ones next year. So what if they caught fire and the tree went up in flames? That's what the smoke alarm and sprinklers are for. It was worth it to see the look on her face when she arrived to find his home decked out like Santa's grotto. If she was going to be staying here for Christmas (he still couldn't believe that she was going to be _here_ for Christmas), then he was going to make it worth her while and tacky decorations were just the tip of the iceberg for what he had planned.

He picks up his suit jacket, turns off the stereo and makes his way downstairs. As he does he becomes aware of a distinctive click-clack rhythm emanating from the kitchen. He walks into the room and stops, stunned, in the doorway.

"You know, when you turned down my offer to join me in the shower, I assumed it was because you wanted breakfast, not because you wanted to … do this." Logan crosses his arms and gives Rory a quizzical look.

"I'm tap dancing."

"I can see that."

In truth, what she was doing vaguely resembled tap dancing in its barest form only but he got the general idea. There were many talents that Rory possessed, but dancing was not on that list.

He waits patiently for her to explain further.

"I checked my email this morning and I'm still getting feedback for the New Yorker piece, it's all good, really good, and … Condé Nast wants to set up a meeting with me." Rory explains breathlessly, as she continues to strike the floor with her heels.

"Ace, that's a great thing! I'm so proud of you." Logan pushes off from the wall and moves to embrace her, giving her a quick kiss.

"I know." She resumes her tapping, while Logan pours himself a coffee.

"But …?"

"How long do you think I'm going to be able to ride the wave of this piece Logan? I'm not getting as many call-backs lately and my by-lines aren't exactly skyrocketing. I still have that article for The Atlantic but I have a bad feeling about it, I think they might pull it."

"So, you were anxious about everything going wrong and now you're anxious that things are going well?"

"Yes."

"Thus … tap dancing?"

His eyes sparkle as he gently teases her and she smirks back, she loves that he puts up with her bizarre and idiosyncratic ways.

"Yep. I found a tutorial online. I started a few weeks ago."

"Right." Logan nodded quickly. "Would it help, or perhaps be less noisy, to try your meditation exercises?"

"I think I'm too jittery for meditation."

"Well, how much coffee have you had since you got up?" He asks, inspecting the nearly empty pot on the counter.

She shoots him a look. "You know better than to question my caffeine intake."

"That I do." He smiles at her as he replaces the pot and continues to sip his coffee. "How about we try running again? It usually de-stresses me."

"You know I don't run."

"Well you also didn't use to meditate. And judging by the skills you're demonstrating here, I doubt that tap dancing's going to be in your repertoire for too long either."

She smacks him playfully on the chest and he tugs her towards him for another kiss.

"Everything's going to work out. You're a great writer, you've just got to believe in yourself and keep putting yourself out there."

She nods grudgingly, resuming her exercise. "I know. I know! The Talk of the Town piece is a good way to end the year, I just need to get my head back in the game. I've been distracted lately, not quite myself."

Logan can't disagree with her sentiments, but he also can't help but worry that she blames him and his involvement in her life over the past year for her recent preoccupation.

Rory sees the troubled look on his face and, halting her tap steps, moves to wrap her arms around him.

"Hey. I'm really looking forward to all the Christmas stuff we have planned. You'll be done early today right?"

"Right." He smiles back at her, grateful for the interlude to his thoughts. "I'll come home for a quick shower and change and then we'll head out to Covent Garden, the lights will be amazing. And we can drown ourselves in roasted chestnuts and mulled wine. You'll be finished with your interview by 4 right?"

"Should be. And then I am all yours for the next few days."

He cannot stop the grin from spreading across his face. The thought of her being all his does things to him that he cannot adequately put into words.

"Perfect. Then it's just us, no work, and plenty of Christmas merriment."

"Can't wait." Rory replies and places a kiss on his lips. "I'll see you back here at 4."

Their lips meet again and as he pulls away to head towards the door, Rory has to stop the words _I love you_ from slipping out. As if it were the most normal, most natural thing in the world, the perfect finish to this morning routine that they've created. Him building her up before she heads out on another assignment; them chatting and drinking coffee before work; her kissing him as he leaves the house.

Logan senses the change in her demeanour. "Everything okay?"

Rory shakes her head restlessly, determined to erase those kind of thoughts from her mind. "Of course, just hyped up on caffeine and cardio. I better go jump in the shower and get ready."

"You sure?" He persists, unconvinced.

"I'm sure." She nods resolutely.

"Well, I'll see you this afternoon then. Have a good day." He smiles that smile at her and she goes weak.

 _I love you_. Those instinctive words make their way to the tip of her tongue again and she has to bite them back.

"You too." Rory gives him a little wave as he leaves the house and inwardly curses herself for her incredible spinelessness.

She exhales slowly once she is alone. Maybe she's becoming too relaxed with him, she can't keep letting those old habits sneak in. She can't tell him that she loves him – it's not that she doesn't love him. Because she does, probably always will. He was _the one_ after all. But she can't tell him that. He has a fiancée and a life. One that doesn't involve her.

She also happens to have a boyfriend. Well, he calls himself her boyfriend but she's never exactly put a label on it. Besides, Paul knows that they're fairly casual, how could he not? Sure, they've been seeing each other on and off for a while now (maybe a year or so, Rory deliberates) but it's not like they celebrate anniversaries or anything. Regardless, she should probably cut him loose and break-up with him sooner rather than later. But she can't do it right now - it's Christmas. That would be cruel, she justifies to herself as she continues with her morning.

Logan heaves a sigh as he pulls the front door closed behind him. He recognises, and he's sure that Rory does too; that they have a tendency to play house and that they do act like a couple. After all, when they're together, they're _together_. They can't help themselves, there is too much history and familiarity between them. They can't _not_ be together, they bounce off of each other effortlessly and have shared too much.

They both stopped pretending that this was a friends with benefits setup a while ago but neither of them have pushed to further define what they have (he's too afraid to, he assumes she is too). But there is something undeniably domestic and cosy about spending Christmas just the two of them (though they are only spending it together because of work scheduling. Obviously.). As he gets into the waiting car, Logan ruminates on just how much longer they can stay in this limbo.

* * *

Logan gets his rarely-used Aston Martin out of the garage and drives them out into the English countryside on Christmas Eve; they stroll hand in hand through picturesque villages, listen to the local schoolchildren sing in their carol concerts and eat lunch in a quintessential country pub in front of the open fire. They leave after dinner to be back in London by midnight and they toast in Christmas Day with champagne on the balcony looking out over the city lights. It's perfect; reminiscent of the Christmas they spent together in 2006, except then they were in a committed and loving relationship and now they're … what they are. It's _almost_ perfect.

They wake late on Christmas morning and exchange gifts in front of the tree. Rory had stipulated that they were to purchase silly and cheap stocking fillers only – a somewhat ineffectual attempt to keep things from feeling too serious, and also to prevent Logan from buying her anything too expensive. Although, she's pretty sure that the ship had long sailed when it came to Logan offering her jewellery.

Logan speaks to his parents briefly (and reluctantly) around lunchtime, dodging their questions about when they can expect him and Odette to agree a wedding date. He Skypes with Honor, Josh and the children and it is 20 minutes of hysteria. Evelyn, hyped up on candy since she'd woken at 4am, proceeds to show Logan every gift she has opened through the camera; while her little brother George squeals "Merry Christmas Uncle Logan!" incessantly while launching himself off of various pieces of furniture.

Rory eavesdrops on the remainder of their conversation as she waits in the bathroom after her shower. She can tell how much Logan admires their family, he is so good with the kids and she knows he wishes he were nearer them all. He and Honor are still close, their bond reminds her of the one she has with her mother, built on love and the resilience of surviving challenging childhoods. He hasn't told Honor about their arrangement though, not that she can really blame him. If Lane hadn't have accidentally found out, she wouldn't have told anyone either.

She notices that he doesn't speak to Odette all day, which if she allowed herself to dwell on it, would be telling.

Rory speaks to both Lorelai and Emily and receives (mild) guilt-tripping from them both about work keeping her away from Connecticut at Christmas. Her mother relays tales about Stars Hollow's holiday shenanigans, tells Rory how impressed everyone is with her New Yorker piece ("Wait till you see Luke!") and ends their call repeating once again how much she loves and misses her and that she can't wait to see her in a few days.

Rory almost feels guilty about being away from her family, this first Christmas without Grandpa especially, but then she and Logan continue with their day and any residual guilt is overshadowed by contentment. They cook dinner (well, they pop the components of a ready-made roast dinner in the oven to warm through), go for a walk around The Serpentine in Hyde Park and have drinks in a pub before retreating home for chocolate and snacks in front of the TV.

Rory receives messages from Paul but, distracted by Logan's attempt to put together the model car she had put in his stocking, and unwilling to come out of their bubble (and realising how selfish that sounds), she quickly texts him to say she can't talk as she is busy with work and mindlessly invites him to join her in Stars Hollow in a few days time.

The flames crackle in the fire as Logan laughs at the comedy show they're watching. Rory sips from her wine glass as he alternates between kneading her shoulders and playing with her hair. She stretches out her legs on the pillows she'd arranged on the floor, leans back into him sitting on the couch above her and sighs happily.

She can't believe that she's here, that he's here, that it feels this good, this right.

She loves being with Logan so much and sometimes she can't help herself, she loses herself in a fantasy of what it would be like to do this full-time, to share their lives fully and not just sporadically, to be married to him – and then she stops herself, this is what she could have had, if she had said 'yes' all those years ago. Instead, she insisted on a wide-open future and that is exactly what she got.

When her time on the Obama campaign came to its natural end and it became clear that staff writer positions at prestigious newspapers were about as easy to come by as the Reston Fellowship; Rory did what came quite unnaturally to her, and relented. She took jobs at less esteemed outlets, remaining steadfast that this was only temporary and that she would be following in Christiane Amanpour's footsteps in no time. After getting passed over for sub-editor once again, she snapped one day and handed in her resignation, deciding that freelancing would give her the opportunity to travel that she's always wanted. What it didn't give her was stability or a steady income. It's been 3 years now and she'd struggle to describe exactly what she's been doing in that time.

She's floundering, probably has been since the day she let him go.

On the other hand, since they parted ways on the Yale lawn, Logan moved on with his life, and moved up and up and up. Once he got started on _his_ wide-open future, there was no stopping him and his career (even considering the significant assistance he had received from his family) went from strength to strength. He just about managed to survive the economic downturn in 2008, by knuckling down and waiting it out; exhibiting a work ethic his younger self would have mocked mercilessly. He returned to the family fold an older, wiser and more patient man; yielding to the destiny that had always awaited him. She always knew he had it in him to be anything he wanted to be and when he learned to put aside the understandable resentment he felt towards his predetermined future, his success was unparalleled.

Without her, he had excelled.

Rory allows a few silent tears to escape, keeping her gaze fixed straight ahead so he can't see her face, can't see her pain. This is what she asked for, what she chose. And Logan has always given her exactly what she wanted. She wonders, and not for the first time, what he would do if she asked him to abandon Odette and their pre-planned future, for her, the aimless reporter. She quickly snuffs those thoughts out; that would be a step too far, even for her.

She knows she can be selfish (she's being extraordinarily selfish lately) but she wants to draw the line at being selfish at Logan's expense, specifically pulling his life off course. She had her chance, she turned him down. Now, she has to accept what she can get.

Logan muses on the last few days they have shared as he relaxes sleepily on the couch. It's been incredible, some of the best times they've had since they reconnected, maybe some of the best times they're ever had. It feels right, they just _fit_. Like this is how it should be for them, permanently.

Rory had asked him if she could have some boxes shipped here from the apartment she's relinquishing in New York and he stopped himself from telling her to have them all shipped here. After all, he remembers how well his last unexpected gesture of commitment went down and seemingly not much has changed. Apparently, spending roughly a week a month in her own home isn't quite carefree enough for her and she's decided to go full-on drifter. She still doesn't want to be tied down, she wants her life to be even more vagabond-chic than it already is. He's nothing but a pit stop in her wandering adventures and he needs to remember that. He may well love her, but not the way she loves him, if she loves him at all.

Instead, he relishes the opportunity he has right now – he can caress her softly as they laugh together on Christmas night, the twinkling lights on the tree illuminating the picture-perfect image of the two of them here together. On the face of it, they must look flawless and though he knows in his mind that things aren't always what they seem, in his heart, it feels real.

It does for her too.

* * *

Rory moves around the kitchen comfortably the following morning, pulling various foodstuffs from the cabinets while she waits for the coffee to brew. Logan is upstairs lighting the fire and she can't wait to crawl under the blankets on the couch and eat a junk food breakfast in front of Netflix and the roaring flames. She shivers as she gathers things from the open refrigerator and wishes that the coffee would hurry up so that she can retreat back upstairs to the warmth. She realises that a satin slip isn't the most suitable attire for a cold December morning but the appreciative looks that Logan gives her while she's wearing it are more than worth a few goose bumps.

She pours two large mugs of coffee and is about to start shuttling the food and drink upstairs when the sound of the front door opening startles her.

"Logan?" she queries quickly before the more likely explanation hits her. It must be Odette. She must have come to surprise Logan. And she's going to walk in to find her standing in the kitchen, arms full of breakfast, like she owns the place. Dressed like a Victoria's Secret model. Rory has never felt more mortified in her entire life (okay, having Lindsay and the rest of Stars Hollow find out that she had slept with a married Dean was always going to be pretty tough to top, but at least she had been wearing underwear then.).

She has barely had a moment to contemplate the chances of the ground opening up and swallowing her whole before she had to come face-to-face with Logan's beautiful fiancée, who she had previously only seen via online stalking, before the true unsolicited guest walked into the kitchen.

Or guests to be more accurate. Rory lets out a breath as she sets eyes on Finn and Colin.

"Oh my God, it's just you two." She sighs in short-lived relief, before realising that she's still going to have to explain her presence.

The two men stare at Rory, clearly gobsmacked, and they are all silent for a moment.

Finn breaks the silence as he appraises Rory's state of undress. "It's been too long darling. Do I get a hug?" He quips with a suggestive look on his face.

Logan, hearing the door, quickly makes his way down the stairs, not wanting to think about who could be interrupting his and Rory's quiet and cosy morning.

"What the hell are you guys doing here?!" He exclaims as soon as he catches sight of his two oldest friends.

Colin moves to allow Logan into the room and responds with the most smug smirk possible.

"We missed you at Honor's pre-Christmas party, seeing as you were _so busy_ at work, so last night when we'd both had enough drunken debauchery from our families we decided to fuel up the jet and come surprise you. Obviously, if we'd have known you were having a private party of your own, we wouldn't have bothered."

Finn winks at Rory and continues to hold his arms open, beckoning her towards him.

Logan hands Rory his robe, which she promptly fastens around her middle before moving to quickly embrace Finn and Colin in turn.

They are still looking expectantly at her with gleeful smiles plastered on their faces as she grabs her coffee and heads for the door.

"I'm going to leave you guys to it. I'll be upstairs getting dressed." She and Logan share a look as she walks away.

 _Busted_.

Their secret is quickly becoming not so secret.

"Please don't dress on our account love, you look perfect as you are." Finn calls out as she leaves.

Logan slaps him on the arm before picking up the other cup of coffee from the counter and beginning to drink.

Finn and Colin continue to stare at him amusedly.

"'Nothing to report' you said when we spoke a few days ago. I knew I smelt bullshit. You've been holding out on us." Colin chastises.

"Leave it." Logan takes another slurp of his coffee.

"Well that's definitely not happening."

"What are you guys even doing here? And when did I give you a key?"

"I had one made the last time I was here after we got locked out all night after that river cruise. Throwing things into the water always seems so much fun at the time …" Finn explains wistfully.

"So when were you going to tell us that you and Rory are back together? And that you and Odette broke up?" Colin asks.

"We're not. And we haven't."

"Oh …" Finn elongates the word through pursed lips.

"Well one of those things clearly isn't true." Colin gestures upstairs.

"We're not back together. Not really. She crashes here when she's in town. For work. Saves her spending money on a hotel …" Logan starts to ramble. He's nervous, he is almost never nervous, and never in front of his best friends. But he's also not used to being caught off guard like this.

"Of course, this is strictly economical. Makes sense. I'd forgotten all about that spare bedroom that you keep hidden around here. So smart of you to start renting it out." Colin retorts sarcastically.

"Are you done?"

"Brilliant business plan really. Offering shelter to wandering journalists, what a charitable man you are, plus it must be tax-deductible."

"And it's just an added bonus if they happen to be your stunning ex who walks around the house in negligee." Finn adds, as he begins to raid the stash of food Rory left out.

"Are you done?" Logan repeats, firmer this time.

"Is ex the correct term? I mean, unless you have actually managed to have a hidden panic room fitted are we to assume that the lovely Miss Gilmore 'crashes' on the couch?" Finn makes use of air quotes mockingly.

"Oh no, Logan's far too much of a gentleman for that. Surely you're the one on the couch right?" Colin directs his question at Logan who offers only a stare in response. "Yeah, that's what I thought."

"So does Odette know?"

"That we're in an arranged engagement and can't seem to weasel our way out of it currently – yes. That we both see other people – yes."

"About Rory, specifically."

"No. Just like I don't know specifically who she dates when she's in Paris."

"So you admit that you're dating Rory?" Colin persists.

"No, we're not dating."

"But you are fucking." Colin asserts, more of a statement than a question.

Logan sighs in exasperation. "We're friends."

"Friends who fuck."

"Yeah, I've done that." Finn contributes. "Never with an ex though. Certainly never with the one who ripped my heart out and left me a weeping, ruined shell of a man."

"I did not weep." Logan affirms. (Not in front of the guys anyway.)

"And Rory's happy with you being engaged to someone else?" Colin asks incredulously.

"I thought she had a boyfriend in New York, ran into them a while back. Sinfully boring specimen of a man but he did compliment me on my accent and cowboy boots so he's clearly got good taste going for him at least." Finn reasons.

Logan scowls, he knows it's unreasonable but he hates any mention of Rory's so-called boyfriend.

"Look, it is what it is. When she's in town, we're together and when she's not, she goes back to her life."

"And what exactly do you do? When she's not in town that is? You go back to _your_ life that you love so much? Working 80 hour weeks, never having time to come home or go on vacation. Escort your faux-fiancée around the latest charity gala."

"Pretty much." Logan answers with a sardonic nod of the head.

"So basically you're attempting to be casual fuck buddies with the only woman you've ever loved while supposedly being engaged to someone else? And it's the former, who's also in another relationship, that you've chosen to spend Christmas with?"

The three men stand in silence as they consider Colin's harsh (and vulgar) truth.

"This is hands-down the worst idea you've ever had. Jumping off that cliff in Costa Rica – better idea than this." Finn decides.

"At least then death would have been quicker and less painful. This is going to be long and drawn-out." Colin adds.

"With fewer sponge baths." Finn concludes.

"Thank you both for your support." Logan holds up his cup in a mock toast.

Colin and Finn both roll their eyes at their friend's obliviousness.

"Well seeing as we're all _friends_ here, let's carry on with the fun we had planned. We've got Book of Mormon tickets and a reservation at the Chiltern Firehouse. Make sure you leave a key under the mat as all going well, we'll be on the river cruise by midnight." Finn chatters excitedly.

Logan considers arguing but knows it would be a futile exercise.

He collects some food to take up for Rory before heading for the stairs. "I'm going to get ready. Go check into a hotel, text me which one, we'll come meet you in a bit."

"You mean there aren't any vacancies at the Logan Huntzberger Halfway House?!" Colin laughs at his friends' retreating back, knowing that if Logan's hands weren't full he would be flipping him off right about now.

* * *

Rory rushes around the bedroom, dropping the necessary items into her bag. She didn't need to take too much in her carry-on as this trip was just a quick overnight at home, a brief stop in New York for work and then dinner with her grandmother before she's back on the red-eye here.

She had meant to get up earlier but after her interviews the day before ran late, she and Logan had missed their reservation and ended up in the pub down the street for dinner. One glass of wine turned into a bottle, which turned into them making homemade espresso martinis, which turned into them utilising their caffeine-induced wakefulness in the kitchen, then on the couch, and finally into bed until the early hours of the morning.

Logan pulls her close to kiss her goodbye and when he lets his hands wander, she doesn't stop him.

"I'll be right back." She mutters in between kisses.

"I'll be waiting."

"You'll be working on the acquisition proposal that you've been putting off the last few days, ordering Chinese and drinking scotch and we both know it."

Logan smiles. "Well maybe you know me too well."

They kiss again before Rory pulls her coat on.

"I have to be at the office all day when you land so here … take this." Logan picks up a key from the bookshelf and holds it out to her.

Rory looks at him blankly.

"It's a key … to the house … so you can let yourself in."

Logan appraises the shocked look Rory is giving him. He probably didn't think this through. He had done it almost mindlessly but the enormity of what he's proffered hits him like an asteroid. A key. He's giving her a key to his apartment. They're not even in a relationship (technically) and he's giving her a god damn key. He hasn't ever considered giving Odette a key and she's supposedly his fiancée.

"It's ridiculous that you're always waiting around for me to get home. You should have had a spare key ages ago. This just makes more sense." He rationalises.

"Are you sure?" She takes the key from his hand.

"It's better than Finn having it." He attempts to diffuse the situation with humour.

It works. "That's true." She smiles at him.

Rory busies herself placing the key into her bag whilst talking herself down. So he's given her a key, it's no big deal, she can add it to her wayfaring keychain alongside Paris and Lane's home keys. This one feels different though, like just when she's decided to be fully 'rootless' here is Logan, offering her a root.

"You don't have to take it if you don't want …" He begins.

"No, you're right. It's practical. Thank you."

She leans in to kiss him softly, willing herself to calm down. It's just a key.

Rory notices the time. "Crap, I'm running late! I have to go."

She kisses him once more and disappears down the stairs. She's almost at the door when she hears him calling out and following her.

She spins around to meet that perfect grin and he's holding something out for her again.

"Don't forget the Princess Charlotte teaspoons for your mom!"

She exhales with a laugh before shoving the gift into her bag.

"You're a lifesaver. You know my mom would never forgive me if I missed Christmas _**and**_ forgot her tacky souvenirs."

Logan grabs her by the waist and kisses her firmly, wanting to say goodbye on a good note rather than an awkward one.

"Thank you for a great Christmas. Have a safe flight. I'll see you soon."

Rory smiles back at him. "Thank you. For Christmas, for having me here, for the key. See you soon."

She turns to leave and they both tell themselves that this is just like any other visit coming to an end. She came to town for work, so she stayed with him, now she's heading home – nothing's changed. But they both feel a shift, one to add to the seismic shift they seem to have experienced over the holiday period.

It definitely feels like they're not in Vegas anymore.


	6. Part 6

**A/N:** So it's now been 5 months and I'm still emotionally compromised by the revival. _Winter_ is easily my favourite episode of AYITL overall but writing the supplement to this part was harder than I thought it would be. The flow seems a little disjointed but hopefully it's still readable.

Thank you for the lovely feedback and encouragement. I'm still trying to stick to canon and fill in the blanks according to my imagination so as much as I would love for Rory and Logan to sort out their nonsense immediately, there's still a way to go.

Chapter title from 'Lucky You' by The National.

* * *

 **Part 6**

 _ **you own me, there's nothing you can do**_

Rory had barely had time to catch her breath upon her return to London before she was shuttling between publishers to pitch articles whilst arranging another meeting with Naomi Shropshire to discuss a supplement to her New Yorker piece.

Logan, having enjoyed his few days off, was now neck-deep in work again, another year closer to his father's assumed retirement, and therefore he moved another year closer to his inevitable ascendancy to the Huntzberger Publishing Group throne.

New Year's Eve was upon them but with both their workloads full (a welcome change for Rory), neither of them had made firm plans.

Luckily for them, Finn had other ideas. He flew back into London from wherever he had disappeared to several days prior, bringing Colin with him. He forcibly removed Rory from her seat in front of the computer, collected Logan from the office and piled them both onto a private jet at City Airport; Logan still in his work suit, Rory without her coat. They landed in Edinburgh a little over an hour later for the start of Hogmanay celebrations. Finn assessed that though it had nothing on Sydney, the Scots knew how to throw a party.

So they saw off 2015 in style with a bit of dancing, a smattering of cocaine and a lot of champagne and Scotch. They woke too early on New Year's Day, the dehydration and profound nausea preventing them from sleeping it off. The plane journey home was no where near as pleasant as the one they'd taken there not 24 hours earlier and when they staggered into Logan's London home they both reached for more coffee and Alka-Seltzers reflexively. They're not kids anymore and the 2-day hangovers they both suffered through drove that point home.

It's as if Auld Lang Syne ringing in 2016 was the wake up call they needed. Christmas had been wonderful, indulgent, and nostalgic but now it was just another January. At home there would be snow to help continue the romantic fantasy but in London, there is just rain and grey reality.

* * *

Rory's mind is working relentlessly, the guilt dredged up during her visit home coursing through her veins. Even when an ocean separates them, she can't stop thinking about Logan. Sometimes it's in the form of shame (like when Paul brings her flowers for their anniversary but her mind flashes back to spending the morning of said anniversary in Logan's bed); and sometimes she'll recall his sweet gestures and the accompanying smile he wears when he knows he's making her happy, and her Harlequin romance face makes a reappearance (and it's obvious, so obvious that her grandmother sees it, remarking that she looks like she's in love and foolishly attributing it to the boyfriend that no one can remember).

She knows she is (in love) and that she does look that way. She isn't even trying that hard to hide it anymore. She and Logan are as 'couple-y' as they've ever been. Except that they're not. Because there's Paul. And Odette. And the fact that rather than being a couple, they're actually having an affair that no one knows about (except for Lane, Colin and Finn, because apparently they can't even conduct a _**secret**_ affair properly.).

And then just when she's wondering what is actually holding them back from being together, she remembers. Oh yeah, because she's a raging failure and can't manage to pull her shit together for love nor money (quite literally in both cases). The niggles that once festered in her brain are now fully-fledged doubts and she can't even tell Logan the whole truth about it. Her bank account balance is plunging without a steady pay check and she just can't bring herself to dip into the inheritance her grandfather left her. She won't, not until she feels at least a little worthy of his pride. She hasn't met his expectations, hasn't met anyone's, least of all her own.

She's pinning a lot of her hopes on her Naomi connection as she seems to have lost her flair for writing much of anything else; she's not submitting nearly as many articles these days, her laptop filling up with unfinished, unedited, un-publishable essays. Besides, there's something about free spirit Naomi and her 'I give zero fucks' attitude, that Rory is trying to emulate with very little success.

Ugh. Life (and love) sucks. She never thought it would be _this hard_.

It's these kind of thoughts that keep her up at night, insomnia becoming her only consistent bedfellow. She drinks more alcohol at night to help her sleep, and more coffee than usual in the mornings to help her wake.

When Naomi suggests the book proposal, Rory can barely contain herself from bouncing off the ceiling – this could be it, her shot, she persuades herself (it's not the sort of thing she thought she'd end up doing but she's really trying to roll with the punches these days). So she throws herself into it wholeheartedly and starts to claw her self-confidence back.

She could go into free fall but this opportunity gives her something to cling onto. And it makes a nice (and healthier) change from her clinging to Logan.

* * *

Logan, on the other hand, utilises the natural break of the year ending and another beginning to regain his composure, he'd nearly pushed too far over Christmas but he had to step back again and follow Rory's lead. At no point had she overtly expressed a wish for anything more than what they currently have; except for the boxes that is.

He loves that she has her belongings sent to his home, this coupled with the key he gave her are cementing their relationship far beyond the original boundaries of their casual agreement. He's seeing much more of Rory than he is of Odette (who still seems entirely comfortable with _their_ arrangement, she gently rebuffs any wedding plans just as he does).

It's unbelievably naïve but he starts to believe that there's a chance that this will naturally work itself out. He can bide his time and Rory will come around, she'll decide that she wants to be with him, she'll want to commit and they can make a go of it, for real this time. He and Odette can go their separate ways with no harm done (except to their fathers' business plans, but there's other ways to make money that don't include marrying off your children).

Unfortunately, time seems to be passing by quicker than they're sorting their crap out. January turns to February and he starts receiving invitations to various events in the spring and summer, where he and Odette will be expected to attend and fawn over each other like the flawless socialites they've been manufactured to be.

He's not sure how much longer they can go on being 'engaged' without you know, _actually_ being engaged. He knows that she doesn't love him either, and that it won't break her heart when their 'relationship' inevitably breaks down. It's not just that they live separate lives and rarely see each other, and then when they do it's usually in order to accompany each other to charity benefits or mandatory family gatherings. It's not even that they both half-heartedly agreed to an engagement without really considering the implications of it – namely that eventually they'd be expected to marry.

In truth, Logan still doesn't know why he agreed to it.

In _**actual**_ truth, he does. He's bending to the same familial expectation and pressure he's been tied to all his life and he still hates it. He got away once and came back willingly. He's still trying to figure out whether that was the right decision.

Not to mention that a part of him hoped that it would get a reaction out of Rory (which it did) and compel her to commit to him (which it did not).

And work? Well that's a whole different beast.

He buries himself in his work so that he won't think about Rory; it's relatively easy to do (the burying, he's not sure he'll ever find a big enough distraction to stop him from thinking about her), as with each passing year his duties within his family's conglomerate seem to only magnify.

He'd agreed to come back to the company nearly 5 years earlier. Maybe it had something to do with him not feeling quite at home on the West Coast; maybe because what was once a start-up was now ancient by tech standards and wasn't really challenging him the way he knew he needed to be; maybe it was because he seemed to be hurtling towards 30 without the ropes tethering him that he imagined he would have at that age – a wife, perhaps a child, a defined role within his family and the wider society set.

Family. That's what it came down to in the end. He missed them. Mostly Honor, who couldn't travel to see him as frequently once she gave birth to his newborn niece, but also his parents, for some abnormal and unknown reason.

His grandfather's passing was enough of a shock to the system, both for Logan and the Huntzberger family as a whole, to enable him to refocus. He and his father had some very open and frank discussions and while the same party lines were brought out again - obligation, responsibility, legacy – they rang truer for Logan in his older and less self-indulgent capacity.

The weeks he spent back home in Connecticut assisting with the emotional and practical fallout from the elderly man's death were enough to pull him back in. It wasn't necessarily healthy, but it was home and it was what he was used to.

As time went on, he found himself compelled to follow more and more of his parents' wishes, their (and more specifically his father's) approval still out of reach. It felt as if he had barely made himself at home in New York before he was living out of a suitcase on almost continuous global business trips, the importance of strengthening the Huntzberger name in international media paramount.

The travel was enjoyable, as it always is, but he couldn't deny that loneliness wasn't his favourite trekking companion. He no longer had the same resistance to sitting still that he had possessed years prior and he was yearning for something decidedly more settled. Hence: London, and then Odette. He wasn't at home, and he still didn't see as much of his niece (and then nephew too) as he'd like, but he had stability and his role in his family re-established. It was enough.

Except now, with Rory and the slight possibility of something genuine on the horizon, he's not sure that it is anymore.

He doesn't even have his raucous childhood friends to rely on to take his mind off his current predicaments. Finn and Colin (especially Finn) will not stop wanting to talk to him about Rory and their 'situation' now and it's making it all seem a lot more real. Not in the 'it feels so real and true in my heart' kind of way but in the 'I'm acting like a cowardly asshole and this is going to blow up spectacularly in my face' kind of way.

This reality bites.

* * *

Rory bags up some items from her boxes of belongings at Lane's house, her elusive lucky outfit still at large. She lets a smile tug at her lips as she reads her latest text from Logan, explaining that she better appreciate the snow and blistering cold 'proper Winter weather' she's enduring at home while he's stuck in rainy, dreary London. He's such a Brit these days, complaining about the weather is one of his most frequent pastimes. She's trying to formulate a reply, grumbling that her Condé Nast meeting's been pushed, when texts from both her mother and Paul enter her inbox.

 _Crap, crap, crap!_

Oh, poor Paul, how she let this go on for this long she doesn't know. He knows that she's back in town for a while so it would be rude to not catch up with him. And maybe if she sees him face-to-face she can finally pluck up the courage to let him down gently.

He's the latest in a string of 'Paul's she's dated since she left Yale, (rather bland, safe, predictable, unexciting men. The anti-Logan.) but he's the only one who's lasted this long. She's pretty sure the relatively miniscule amount of time they spend together might have something to do with that.

Her phone buzzes again with another message from her mother, checking when she's returning to London.

 _Crap!_

She hates lying to her mom, she really does. Even though she's an adult and (mostly) moved out now, she still feels guilty at keeping things from her. Sometimes she's positive that Lorelai is onto her and that she must know about Logan, but after speaking to her earlier she's not so sure again. It would definitely make it easier if her mom found out for herself, it would save Rory from having to tell her.

She sighs and ignores her newest texts, vowing to reply to them both later before she types out a response to Logan.

Lane puts away the last remaining equipment from their band practice, as Rory places a bag by the door and tidies her boxes into the corner. She had heaved a sigh of relief when Zack suggested that he and the guys take the twins out for dinner to give her some peace. Peace wasn't something that Lane had an abundance of these days.

She sees Rory looking distractedly at her phone and grabs her chance.

"So … how was London?" Lane attempts to adopt a casual tone.

Rory's head snaps up and the forceful way she shoves the phone into her pocket tells Lane all she needs to know about exactly who's messages had her attention.

"We haven't really had much of a chance to talk recently."

Rory can read between the lines, she knows what Lane means, what she wants to know.

"London was fine. London _is_ fine." She fiddles with her scarf restlessly.

Lane nods. "Great. I didn't want to say anything in front of Paris in case she doesn't know."

(Paris had departed to "check on her breeders" half way through their rehearsal and though Lane desperately hoped she hadn't been referring to actual human beings, she was fairly certain that that was in fact the case.)

"She doesn't." Rory replies, following Lane into the kitchen. "It's just you ... and now the boys too I guess.

"Colin and Finn, you remember, Logan's best friends." Rory responds to Lane's questioning stare.

"We ran into them … actually, they ran into me, at Logan's place, and I wasn't really wearing much of anything at the time. Kinda hard to hide the truth from them after that."

Rory internally winced at the embarrassing memory.

Lane's eyes widened. "Wow. That's … a development. So they know that you two are … Vegas-ing?" She cringed a little at her use of the term, Rory had recounted it enough times to her, but Lane was still pretty sure that it was all crap and a cover for their denial.

Rory nodded.

"Are you worried they're going to say anything?"

Rory snorted and shook her head. "No. Absolutely not. I trust them. Even if I didn't, Logan does. They're like his family. Actually, in some ways they're better than his family."

Every time she says his name she whispers a little, as if someone might overhear.

"So things are good with Logan?" Lane asks, leaning against the kitchen table.

"Yeah, things are good." Rory smiles. "Christmas was … incredible." Her expression turns pensive. "But then I came home and Paul was here having dinner with my family, for our anniversary no less - the second, in case you're keeping track because I definitely haven't been. And I just felt like crap."

Lane nods in understanding, though she's not sure she understands at all and she doesn't know what to say. She can't exactly say that it's okay, because it's not is it?

Every time that Rory explains a little more about her setup with Logan, it confuses Lane further. The way Rory describes it they sound so … _together_ , except that they're apparently not.

"And my mom just keeps asking questions and I don't know what to tell her."

"Lorelai still doesn't know?"

"Apparently not."

"She hasn't asked why you're in London so much?"

"I'm not there that much." Rory retorts defensively.

Lane raises her eyebrows and nods, "You kinda are. I'm pretty sure that you see Logan more than you see anyone else."

"It's just-"

"Please don't say the words 'casual' or 'what happens in Vegas'!" Her best friend interrupts; she's not sure how many more times she can hear it.

Rory rolls her eyes. "I was going to say I just have a lot of work going on there right now. So, it's convenient to stay with him."

"Yeah, that's why you stay in his bed, for the _convenience_."

Rory sighs. She knows that she doesn't have a leg to stand on in this argument.

Lane can see the dilemma her oldest friend is going through and if it were anyone else behaving like this she's sure that she'd be calling them names and condemning them to a painful existence. But it's Rory, and she knows in her heart that she's not deliberately setting out to hurt anyone.

"Rory, do you love him?" She asks seriously.

Rory opens her mouth to answer and then closes it. She runs her hands through her hair, pacing the kitchen.

"It's complicated. My career is kind of up in the air right now and I think I need to figure out my work stuff first, before I can get to the Logan stuff."

"So I'll take that's as a 'yes'? Why don't you just tell him? The work stuff can wait."

Rory looks at her oldest friend, not wanting to answer the question, the pain evident in her eyes.

They're both startled by the front door opening, Paris letting herself into the house without an invitation.

"I swear to God, it is impossible to hire competent human beings these days. Those girls might have hospitable uteruses but they're going to need a few more sales seminars before I can trust them in the field again."

Lane looks towards Rory, who just shrugs in response.

"I've got to head home now, you want a ride?" Paris offers.

"That'd be great, thanks." Rory gives Lane a quick hug goodbye before picking up her bags.

"Think about what I said." Lane murmurs as the two women leave.

Rory nods. As if she's thinking about anything else at the moment.

* * *

Rory walks out of the terminal, her head stuffy and painful; these back and forth flights were annihilating her immune system and though she knows she's only been ill for a few days, it feels like weeks. She spots Logan leaning against the car waiting for her and she can't help the smile that spreads across her features.

They'd managed to avoid spending Valentine's Day together as she'd stayed in New York a couple of days longer than was strictly necessary, not being ready to repeat the obligatory holiday intimacy so soon after Christmas and the emotional turmoil that had uncovered. She wants to keep her distance from him, just until she can get a handle on Naomi's book and relax a little career-wise, but one look at him and her resolve begins to crumble.

"You didn't have to pick me up," she says as he kisses her quickly and takes her bags.

"I wanted to," he insists, holding open the car door for her.

"Well, you certainly didn't have to upgrade my flight." She sputters through a cough before reaching for another tissue from her pocket.

Being sick sucks. But being surprised with a flight upgrade by your non-boyfriend definitely does not.

Logan joins her in the back of the car and the driver pulls away.

"Well I couldn't have you infecting a whole aircraft full of unsuspecting mortals now could I?"

"I can just infect everyone in first class instead?"

"They're all assholes anyway." He smirks and she allows herself a laugh before another wheezing fit begins.

He gives her another gentle kiss once she stops coughing. "We'll be home soon, I've got coffee, tea with honey and lemon, chicken soup. If all else fails, I've got copious amounts of wine. We'll have you feeling better in no time."

She leans against his shoulder and closes her eyes. "You're too good to me."

Logan sighs sadly, taking her hand. "Nowhere near good enough," he whispers, almost too quiet for her to hear.

With Logan's protective and considerate care (and a stack of over the counter medicines), Rory recovers from her cold in time for his birthday. The guys are coming into town to take him out so it's not like she'll need to be in girlfriend-mode to make a fuss of him, they can just keep things relaxed and all hang out as friends.

They're in the car on the way to a club when they find out that Finn and Colin have invited Robert to join them; and Rory panics a little, the thought of their secret spreading even further freaking her out. Logan reassures her that if they don't mention anything to him they can justify her being there as a friend who happens to be passing through town (he doesn't think it's that believable and doubts that Robert will either but it's too late to do much else).

It _might_ have worked if Rory hadn't decided (sometime around her third cocktail) to hell with keeping it a secret from Robert and she slid into Logan's lap while the guys were at the bar. She loops her arm around his neck and pulls him close until he's nuzzling her chest – you'd have to be blind and an idiot to think they're not together.

Finn can only shrug when Robert queries, "Am I supposed to act surprised at these two, or pretend I don't know about this?" whilst jabbing a thumb towards the cuddling pair. "I mean, Logan's still engaged right?"

"The official line is that they're _just friends_ ," Colin explains as he hands his credit card to the bartender. "Unofficially, they're pathetic morons who won't admit how they feel. We talk to Logan about it and he shuts us down. He's threatened us with physical violence if we try to talk to Rory about it. They've both got their heads firmly buried in the sand, it's all going to end in tears, we're all going to have to pretend we didn't see it coming."

"That pretty much covers it." Finn determines.

"Right," Robert nods. "Huntzberger does like to keep life interesting doesn't he?"

Rory plants a kiss on Logan's lips as the guys get more drinks and she struggles to keep it on the right side of decent.

"I think we can safely assume that Robert might not believe we're just friends." He utters as he spies the men evaluating them across the room.

Rory scrunches her nose in embarrassment, "Sorry, should have kept my hands to myself."

"I think he'd probably have caught on anyway. I'll talk to him, he won't say anything I'm sure."

"Well then, I don't want to worry about it right now." She pecks his lips again.

"Are you having fun?" He asks, fairly needlessly, seeing as she's clearly three sheets to the wind and currently bopping to the music.

She flashes a grin in his direction and sighs happily. "I really am. I'm sorry I'm a little drunk, I've been so stressed out but my latest meeting with Naomi went really well and I want to celebrate. A night like tonight is just what I needed."

Even in her inebriated state, she means what she says. Just like at Christmas and New Year's, she was enjoying feeling comfortable and like she can be herself with them all. Plus, it's refreshing for her and Logan to be a little less domestic and have a blowout with his best friends. It's sort of like old times, reliving their college youth – except it's not. Now, rather than the latest party and their next stunt, they talk about their jobs and the state of the economy whilst ordering bottles of wine, not shots, and heading home at a semi-reasonable hour. She had kept in touch with the guys through social media and occasionally ran into them on her travels but this was different. Just as her and Logan still fit years later, so does she with his friends ( _their_ friends).

Logan smiles at the dreamy, glazed look in her eyes. He thought having the guys around would prevent them from being too close this evening. Clearly he was wrong.

"What about you birthday boy, are you having fun?" She teases him gently.

"I am, thank you. Although I would have had just as much, if not even more, fun at home."

"You know that we have to let Finn off his leash regularly otherwise he gets cranky cooped up inside."

"I had no intention of inviting Finn, or any of them." Logan's voice drops an octave and that, combined with their close proximity and the sensation of his skin on hers, causes Rory to shiver.

They're rejoined by Colin, Finn and Robert and Rory slips back into her seat while Logan keeps his hand on her thigh.

The conversation picks up again; Colin describes how he's trying physiotherapy another time before he decides on knee surgery. Robert asks Rory if she's still living in Brooklyn and she explains that she's moving around at the moment.

"Which is all good fun, except I forgot to label my packing boxes so I'm still figuring out where half my stuff is." She declares as she polishes off her drink.

"Lucky dress?" Logan asks.

"Your guess is as good as mine." Rory shrugs in reply.

"Why don't we just get you a new one, I'm sure we could track one down?" He offers.

"It won't be the same, it needs to be …" she searches for the right word, "used, for it to be lucky."

He leans in even further towards her, whispering in her ear, "I could dirty it up a bit for you if you'd like?"

"Oh, I'm sure you could." She flirts back, her cheeks reddening. "But even if we got a new lucky outfit, I'd still need to find my underwear."

"What happened to your underwear?" He questions, confused.

"I packed it up and now I can't find most of it."

"You haven't said anything to me about not finding your underwear."

They continue in hushed tones.

"Yeah, well, I don't exactly need a whole lot of underwear while I'm here." She goads him with a raised eyebrow and he blushes, he – Logan Huntzberger, ladies man with the smile that melts panties – actually blushes. She loves it, loves the effect that one flirtatious remark from her has on him.

She still doesn't know how she feels able to be so forward with him. She supposes it has always been this way, or from very early on at least. Surely she should have shied away from his strong personality, and reverted to the shy, quiet girl she once was. She didn't though, instead she met him toe-to-toe at every cocky smirk, suggestive comment and intellectual provocation he sent her way. And over a decade later, it was still the same. If anything, she held the upper hand these days. It was she who set the tone for their relationship and it was up to him to keep up.

They continue locking eyes until Finn disrupts their impromptu staring contest.

"Have you two forgotten that we're here?!" He mocks, diverting their attention back to the rest of their group.

Logan laughs, shaking his head, "Sorry gentlemen, where were we?"

Finn stands, encouraging them all to raise their glasses and proceeds to declare a toast (the sixth or perhaps seventh of the night) to Logan's birthday.

Logan and Rory traipse up the stairs to bed in the early hours of the morning. He had wondered, earlier in the evening, whether he should take advantage of her cheery disposition and prompt a conversation about their situation, but the way she toes off her shoes clumsily and tumbles onto the pillows fully clothed make it clear that the opportunity has passed.

Rory glances towards a sleeping Logan the next morning as she checks her emails on her phone – another polite rejection to a query letter she'd sent, and a barely coherent message from Naomi seemingly nullifying their most recent interview – and rubs her temples in frustration.

How she wished she could use the brainless courage that alcohol provides her with to just come out and tell him how she feels. But she meant what she said to Lane, she needs to get her job in order first before she can start untangling this mess they've made. It probably would have been simpler had they not carried on for as long as they have done, but she can't turn back the clock now.

She certainly didn't anticipate that them deciding to have a casual relationship would trigger the metaphorical chasm they have between them. They were so open and able to talk to each other once but those days feel long gone now. In some ways (friendship, chemistry, teamwork) they're the same as they were 9 years ago, in others (most significantly, emotional maturity) it's as if their sudden and very painful break-up caused them both to regress.

Logan stirs and sensing her eyes on him, he wakes and with a smile greets her good morning.

"Everything okay in there?" He asks, perceiving her internal conflict. It's written all over her face.

She nearly tells him.

 _I hate myself for becoming such a mess. I'm not sure how much longer I can go on not telling you how much I love you. I have no idea what I'm doing and even less of an idea how to make it all better._

Of course she doesn't say that though, that would be too much like possessing a backbone.

"Yeah," she plasters her best fake smile on. "Just in desperate need of coffee and some breakfast."

He knows she's lying, knows there's something more that she wants to say and he nearly says so.

 _Tell me what's wrong. Tell me everything. I'll make it better. Tell me what you want. I'll do anything._

But she's out of bed, changing into one of his t-shirts and robe, and heading downstairs before he uses his chance.

Instead, he builds his walls back up to match hers and they continue to say nothing.

After all, what's one more day (or week or month) of lying to themselves and each other after this long?


	7. Part 7

**A/N:** This update took far too long, I'm sorry. Elements of this chapter are some of the very first content that I wrote for this story in the few days after watching the revival and it's cathartic to finally have them written up fully.

I appreciate that the overall pacing has changed from parts 1-5, now that I'm filling in the gaps of AYITL. Originally I planned to write 'pre', 'during' and 'post' as 3 separate stories but in the end they have merged into 1. Apologies if it jumps around too much due to this.

Chapter title from 'Ship To Wreck' by Florence and the Machine.

* * *

 **Part 7**

 _ **did i build this ship to wreck?**_

Rory had pushed the remainder of her lunch around her plate for a full five minutes before Logan suggested that they call it a day and head home instead, leaving the majority of a $300 bottle of wine untouched on the table.

She was completely unprepared for seeing Mitchum again and their encounter had shaken her more than she ever thought he could. Of course she'd have to see him for the first time in nearly a decade when she's homeless and, despite her increasingly futile efforts to get Naomi to concentrate on the book, effectively unemployed. Oh, and when she also happens to be sleeping with his engaged, very-much-not-hers-to-be-sleeping-with, son.

How he must have loved making those marked references to Odette right in front of her. The subtext was deafening.

 _You had your chance, and if you weren't good enough to be a part of our family then, what makes you think things are different now?_

And then to top it all off he had to go and be nice to her. Just to really throw her off track.

He's still a belittling bastard to Logan though so it's good to know that some things don't change.

"I still think that we should have left separately. I could have taken a cab." Rory mutters anxiously and shrugs off her jacket as they walk through the front door.

Logan groans, she'd effectively been giving him the silent treatment on their car ride home, and he knew that she was still unnerved from running into his father. He was a little too. Granted he hadn't been that concerned about taking Rory to this particular restaurant – they weren't overly covert in general – but he hadn't planned on seeing his father there today.

"Ace, he won't have been spying on us leaving together. He was knee-deep in brandy and stock analysis with the BBC guys." He attempts to reassure her as he hangs up his coat and she kicks off her heels.

He follows her path into the kitchen where she heads straight for the coffee machine.

"But … if he did, it's going to be obvious that we're … y'know." She rolls her eyes in that awkward way that he finds adorable, whilst avoiding talking about their relationship, which he finds decidedly less adorable.

Logan shrugs.

"What?"

"Look, if he does think anything, and I'm not saying that he does, then he probably already thinks it."

"Why? You seemed to cover pretty well."

"Yeah. _**I**_ did." He says pointedly.

"But I didn't?"

Logan winces in reply. "You have an honest face."

"So I'm not the best liar, I wasn't that obvious was I?"

He cocks his head and shrugs again.

Rory flusters, running through their encounter with Mitchum in her head for the hundredth time. "At what point was it blatantly obvious?"

"It was pretty much over the moment you jumped out of your skin at the sight of him but the point of no return is when you called him 'Mr Huntzberger'." Logan breaks into a wry smile until Rory shoots him an irritated look.

She cringes and crosses her arms defensively. "I was being polite, and respectful."

"You have yelled at my father on more than one occasion in the past. Trust me, he respects you more for that."

"Logan, what are we going to do?" she asks seriously.

"We don't have to do anything. Even if he thinks he knows, he's not going to do or say anything. Trust me."

"You're saying that a lot."

"Have I ever given you a reason not to trust me?"

Rory raises an eyebrow.

"Okay, don't answer that." He replies jokingly.

She grumbles under her breath and busies herself pouring coffee.

How can he be so blasé about this, she thinks? Doesn't his father desperately want him to marry the perfect Parisian heiress? Is he going to tell her? Will she even care? Logan has always insinuated that he and Odette have a mutual understanding but Rory has never probed more than necessary, she's too afraid of the answers she'd find.

Her thoughts are interrupted when Logan embraces her from behind and places a kiss on her cheek.

"You can trust me." He says emphatically.

"I know. I do." Rory relents with a sigh. "I just hated seeing him like that, feeling … caught."

She tenses in his arms and Logan frowns. She doesn't usually speak about this, never using language like 'caught' or heaven forbid 'cheating', choosing instead to skirt around the issue as much as is humanly possible. It helps that he's never seen what they are doing as cheating, for him at least. What he and Odette have is mostly for show and they're both happy to not ask many questions regarding what they do when they're not together (which is the majority of the time).

And when it comes to the other side of things; Logan tries to not think too much about the state of Rory's relationship back in New York. He can't; the thought of her with anyone else drives him crazy. He's fairly certain that her boyfriend doesn't know about him but he presumes that their relationship must be casual, she so rarely sees him judging by the amount of time they spend together in London.

They stand quietly together for a few moments, each anxiously deliberating.

"I should get on with some work." Rory breaks the silence. "Try and produce something constructive from my morning with Naomi, maybe send out another couple of query letters."

"Now? I thought we were going to watch Game of Thrones. I've been waiting nearly a week to watch this episode with you." Logan sulks. "We were supposed to enjoy the afternoon off before I have my conference call with Tokyo at 2am."

Rory turns in his arms, he can feel her resolve fading, but she remains quiet.

"At the very least you need to eat, you didn't even finish your fries at lunch. I bought out the American snack section of the grocery store – we've got all the Ding Dongs and Twizzlers you could want. I know you can't resist them. Or me." He ends cockily, earning him a playful tap on the ass.

Rory relaxes into a smile. If he could stop being so persuasive (and ridiculously attractive), that would really help her a lot.

"I'm going to go and get changed. Don't forget the Ding Dongs." She warns on her way out the door.

He was right. She couldn't resist him. But she also couldn't help how rattled she felt. When they tumbled into bed later that evening, she clung to him a little tighter and held him a little closer, the temporary nature of their relationship more pronounced than ever.

She rolls over in the night to find his side of the bed empty and coming to her senses, she can hear him on the phone across the apartment. She tries to close her eyes and re-enter her slumber but she can't sleep. She is ruminating over their interrupted lunch. She can't get Mitchum's words, or the look on his face (the one of pity) out of her head. She's going to try and pretend like it didn't happen, otherwise she's not sure if she'll ever get over the shame of him catching them together, let alone his offer to advocate for her. She's resolute that there's no way she'll take him up on it.

She sits up and catches sight of Logan working on his teleconference, his features illuminated by the light of his laptop. He doesn't notice her wakefulness and she takes the opportunity to watch him privately.

She listens to him negotiate with colleagues in Japan, convincing them to increase their online media budget - he is charming, and intelligent, and articulate, and authoritative without being overpowering, and oh so good at what he does. Pride for him surges in Rory's heart and tears sting at the back of her eyes.

Here he is, the beautiful boy who captured her heart all those years ago, back when he was the rebellious screw-up and she was the princess who could do no wrong, only now their roles feel reversed. He has grown into a more purposeful and grounded version of the man he used to be, his triumphs seemingly unceasing, and he doesn't even realise how incredible he is. Yet, here she is flailing around in limbo, success just out of reach, and desperately clutching on to him, her lifeline. She feels as if she is weighing him down, holding him back from everything he could have.

She must make a noise as he sharply turns his head to face her, smiling warmly when he meets her eyes and waves her towards him as he verbally concurs with whomever he is speaking to.

She gestures that she'll go and make them both some coffee, giving herself a much-needed reprieve before she joins him on the couch, passing him a steaming mug and tucking her legs under her.

He mouths 'thank you' and gives her that smile that makes her feel like the most important person in the world and her heart aches.

He deserves so much more than her. She isn't enough.

* * *

It's a few days later when Mitchum strides into Logan's office, closing the door behind him.

Logan momentarily glances at his father before returning his eyes to the computer screen. He'd been anticipating an inquisition; to be honest he's surprised it's taken his father this long to confront him.

"Dad." Logan offers a stunted greeting.

"Good week?"

"Can't complain."

"Rory still in town?"

 _She's probably naked in bed where I left her a couple of hours ago_ , he thinks to himself.

But without missing a beat he says, "Not sure, I think she mentioned at lunch that she was going back to the States a few days ago."

Mitchum sighs in exasperation. He isn't stupid; it's obvious what's going on. It would certainly go some way to explaining why Logan has been so against making any firm wedding plans. This girl, this is the one he would give it all up for. The one he gave it all up for last time (this isn't exactly true but Mitchum doesn't know this, doesn't understand what went on after Logan came back from London the first time. He's never wanted to understand.).

He takes a few paces back and forth. "Are we seriously going to do this? You bullshit me, I pretend I'm an idiot."

"It's worked for the past 30-odd years, why change the habit of a lifetime?"

"How long's it been going on?"

Deadpan. "What?"

"For Christ's sake Logan. Get your head out of your ass! You brought her to own of our restaurants, that's hardly subtle. Rory looked dumbstruck, she could not have been less pleased to see me."

"Ever consider that's because you're a dick?"

"She wouldn't have looked anymore guilty if she had a scarlet 'A' on her forehead. You on the other hand, are a better liar than I sometimes give you credit for. All those business classes and CEO shadowing paid off." Mitchum smiles arrogantly but his son continues to stare at his screen. "Logan, listen to me."

Logan tears his eyes away from the business proposal in front of him to meet his father's disapproving (as ever) gaze.

"This will end badly, for Rory, for Odette and most of all, for you. You will be devastated and heart broken, like you were last time, but to top it off you will have hurt Rory and humiliated Odette." Mitchum tried a gentler approach than his usual.

"You really think Odette would care? You don't think she has someone else? Why do you think she lives in Paris?" Logan knows that he should have just continued to _deny deny deny_ but his father's sheer ignorance on this subject infuriated him. "We have an agreement, for want of a better term," Logan inwardly rolls his eyes, if he never heard the word 'agreement' from his or Rory's tongues again he would be a happy man. "She has her life and I have mine and we don't ask many questions about either."

Mitchum sits on the other side of Logan's desk and leans in, his previous tactic not having quite the effect he hoped. "But does she know that it's Rory you're screwing around with? It's one thing to have a 'don't ask, don't tell' policy, but she might care that it's your ex-girlfriend who you used to live with and once proposed to who's sharing your bed when she's not."

Logan says nothing, simply stares ahead and tries to out-bluff the domineering man in front of him.

"There is too much at stake in our family, in your life, your future, to put your faith in an old college girlfriend who rejected you. I like Rory, I do. I always have. But she's your past and you need to look to the future. You and Odette are compatible, you've said it yourself before. She is a nice girl from a nice family. You could do a lot worse than someone like her, the two of you are friends and that counts for a lot. You want the same things, that counts for even more."

"You have no idea what I want." Logan says sadly, honestly.

"You're holding on to some childish fantasy where you marry the girl of your dreams, the girl who turns your world upside down. And you think that you'll live happily ever after but that's not the real world. That's not our world."

Logan scoffs.

Mitchum continues. "I understand wanting that fantasy. Your mother, in some ways, was that girl for me."

Logan looks perplexed. There is no way he is comparing the twisted marriage he and Mom have to Rory and me?

"It was made clear that it was time for me to settle down, and out of the few women that I was seeing at the time, I liked your mother the best. Plus, I loved that it pissed your grandfather off that she wasn't a society type. I thought I loved her, but it turned out to be infatuation. Once we were married and certainly after we had had your sister and then you, that infatuation faded and there wasn't a whole lot left between us. We find ways to cope with it. She has chardonnay and trips to her plastic surgeon. I have work and attractive secretaries."

Logan rolls his eyes, "Do you actually hear yourself Dad? You _liked_ her the best and Grandpa thought she was trash, so you married her to spite him. What a delightful story, who's going to play you in the movie?"

Mitchum carries on regardless, "Your mother and I have found a way to make it work but our lives would probably have been better had I married someone more suited to me and to our family.

"Odette _is_ suited to us. If you're going to throw away a perfectly good wife and future family, a girl that wants to marry you, do you really want to do it for a girl who said 'no' when you asked her?"

Logan sighs inwardly, if only it were that simple. Odette doesn't want to marry him, not really. But she has an old-fashioned father and a desperate need to please him that he can't help but relate to.

"Besides, at one point, in the not too distant future, despite your constant efforts to delay it, those separate lives that you and Odette are so fond of, they're going to converge. You both agreed to get married and it will happen. This is what you need to do to stabilise your life, to be ready to take on the business, to be taken seriously.

"Now whether or not you keep Rory as your _piece of ass_ on the side is up to you, but try to be a little more discreet." He emphasises the slur to make his point.

And it's like a red rag to a bull. How dare he speak about her like that?! It takes every ounce of resolve that Logan has to not reach out and grab his father by the throat. He has trained himself over the years to not rise to his obvious baiting. Instead, he swallows his retaliatory insults and his 'fuck you's and utters calmly, "Message received. You can show yourself out."

Logan waits for his father to leave the office and to get far enough away before he releases his anger, slamming his fist against the desk and swearing loudly. He'd always hated his father a little bit and now he hated him a bit more. Despite the coarse delivery of his words, there was some truth buried in there.

All the same fears that Logan has had since the day Rory walked back into his life – she did say 'no', she didn't want to marry him, she still doesn't, she wants casual, she wants Vegas.

He wants more than that. He wants marriage and a family.

On paper, he and Odette _are_ a good match. When she first caught wind of the possibility of the two of them dating, his mother regaled him with wild tales of Odette's adventures, insisting that she was essentially a 'female Logan'. He had smiled and nodded knowingly. The first time he met Odette she was out of her mind on ecstasy and riding one of her friends around the room like an elephant, if she was the female version of anyone he knew, it was Finn.

And despite her illustrious love of a good time and his relatively slower pace of life these days, Logan hadn't been able to suppress his laughter when he heard that Odette's family were hoping he would be a calming, grounding influence on her. Since when could he be considered a calming influence on anyone?

Regardless of people's misconceptions, they _are_ friends. The chemistry isn't quite right but it's not non-existent. They could live a contented life. So why was it that Logan didn't feel at all content at the thought of marrying her?

Oh, that's right, the blue-eyed beauty who owns his heart and makes him feel like he could fly.

The one who doesn't want him like he wants her.

* * *

Just when they think this elongated visit can't get any worse, it does.

Logan curses himself the minute he leaves the house – Rory asked to stay and he refused her. He barely even did that, he was so caught off guard he just mumbled vaguely until she took it back. Why exactly did he turn her down? Because Odette is coming to London so that they can attend the Reuters benefit together? He doesn't even want to do that.

He should have pushed the conversation further, he should walk back inside and talk it out with her. Was that Rory's way of saying that she wanted more?

No, of course it wasn't, he convinces himself, she said it herself, she doesn't have anything better to do, so she may as well stay with him. That's what he is, her fallback choice.

His discussion with his father had been blunt, but not ineffectual. It brought it home to him, he _has_ been living in a dream world – Rory doesn't want him, not like that. She rejected his proposal because she didn't want to be tied down and that doesn't seem to have changed. She's off being rootless, flitting in and out of his life when it suits her.

He wants her. He does. He loves her. Of course he does.

But he's a grown man with a life to lead. And he can't keep living his life around her.

She needs space and he gives it to her, never pushing her to visit if she's too busy. She wants time to reassess her career and plan ahead; he gives her that too. He doesn't lean too heavily on her for emotional support (but offers it back tenfold).

His work commitments are intensifying, but half the time while he's at the office he's worrying about Rory rather than having his head in the game. He's not visiting Honor and the kids enough because he uses his vacation days when Rory's in town. He hardly ever sees his friends – the ones in London think he's marrying Odette so he can't exactly introduce them to Rory; and the guys have become single-minded with their lectures lately and it's annoying the crap out of him, now, as well as Colin and Finn, he's also got Robert bugging him constantly to "cut the bullshit and sort your life out".

He vows to get on with his day and reassess tomorrow. Maybe it'll bring the enlightenment he so desperately needs.

When he meets her for their traditional farewell dinner that night, Rory acts as if their brief interlude to the world outside their bubble didn't happen.

She's humiliated that he rebuffed her in favour of Odette and devastated at the further implications of it – if she asks him to choose, Logan is going to choose _her_ , he's going to marry _her_.

But for now, they're still supposed to be in Vegas, so until she boards her flight, she'll repress the misery that's threatening to overwhelm her.

When they say goodbye this time, it's urgent and possessive. Less talking, more touching. More taking, than giving.

It's as if they can feel the wheels starting to come off.

* * *

Rory returns to the USA and she's determined to put Logan to the back of her mind and concentrate on her career. It's not as if the stress of working with Naomi isn't enough to keep her occupied; what was once interesting and motivating about her was good for the article but she is too much for a book. They are two wildly different personalities and she cannot harness Naomi's energy in order to gain any traction on the proposal.

But seeing as Condé Nast won't meet with her and she's not willing to concede to the level of SandeeSays (she can't, she _has_ to believe that she's better than that), there's really no other option other than success.

She just needs a breather, that's all. She'll soak up some nostalgia at her Chilton alumni day and attempt to inspire some young minds. Plus the time at home will make her feel better.

Except it doesn't.

She thought it couldn't get much worse than feeling like a failure in front of Mitchum Huntzberger but it turns out feeling like a failure in front of Headmaster Charleston is just as bad.

After all, _those who can't do …_

Then she tries to reassure an even-more-neurotic-than-usual Paris and feels like such a fraud. She's trying to convince her that everything will be okay, she can get herself together and change course – but where does she get off trying to advise Paris when she can't even make this book work, get a actual journalism job, or streamline her disastrous love life?!

It's drastic but she decides to accept the favour from Mitchum. She thinks this might be her lowest point, it was a favour offered purely out of pity, she's sure, but she'll take pity right now. She doesn't exactly have a whole lot else.

But she'll make it worthwhile. She's going to nail the Condé Nast meeting.

Except she doesn't.

And then ultimately, before it had even really begun, the book deal falls through (and then so does Rory).

She blames Naomi, and it is largely her fault, but some of the blame lies at Rory's door too and she knows it. She should have known what she was getting herself into, she was warned enough, but she shrugged off any concerns – because if she could write and publish a book, this would solve everything right? She'd be a real writer then. She'd earn money. She'd be on the bestsellers list. It would lead to more things. She could try at being a journalist again. (She's not clear when she stopped trying to be a journalist but she definitely doesn't feel like one right now.)

She has to salvage something out of this wreckage that is her career.

So she starts with an emphatic call to GQ.

And (after standing in a lot of lines) ends in the bed of a wookiee.

* * *

Lorelai had ordered room service on autopilot and proceeded to sit in silence until it arrived, relaying the conversation she had had with Rory in her head.

She had rushed into the bathroom, leaving Lorelai to handle the very genuine shock she felt when her daughter flew into their hotel room like a whirlwind dropping revelations about cosplay one night stands, professional turmoil and a clandestine affair with her ex-boyfriend. Her thoughts had darted from surprise to confusion to anger and back again, and though she was ashamed to admit it, a little bit of disgust crept in too.

She hears the bathroom door click and looks up to see her technically grown-up, but in some ways not at all, little girl facing her.

Rory tries to smile and fails. Her mother has a table full of food; copious amounts of coffee and an expectant look on her face. There's no way out of this. She takes a deep breath.

"I'm not ready to talk about the wookiee."

"Oh I think we have a greater issue to talk about … Deedee I believe it was?"

"Yeah, definitely not ready to talk about him. I'll give you all the details about the wookiee if that'll get you off my back."

Lorelai shakes her head slowly. "No, you are absolutely not getting away with this one."

Rory gets herself a plate of food and a large mug of coffee and settles back against the pillows of the adjacent bed. She looks towards her mother whose eyes remain wide with eyebrows raised.

"You know kid, I've got all night. Had my power nap and got a jug full of coffee right here. So … you've gotta give me something. You can't just drop a bomb like that on me and not explain."

Rory finishes a mouthful of food; she had had some time in the shower to think (and sober up a bit) and instantly regretted blurting out her confession to her mother in the way she had. "There's really not that much to say."

"I beg to differ." Lorelai leaves a pause and when Rory doesn't fill it, she goes on. "When did it start?"

Rory sighs, she suddenly wishes that she was still drunk for this conversation. "Fall, not last year, the year before. We were both in Hamburg, we ran in to each other, we caught up. And then we just kept in touch."

Yep, the PG footnotes version definitely covers the breadth of her complicated attachment with Logan.

Lorelai is taken aback, and it takes her a minute to process. It's been over a year and a half, why is she only finding out about this now? Between this and the worrying extent of Rory's career stresses, Lorelai wonders just how much of her daughter's life she's actually been privy to lately.

"So … you're back together?"

"No, we're not back together. It's casual."

"Casual? Because you two were so good at being casual a decade ago, you thought you'd give it another whirl?"

"It's different now."

"Clearly," Lorelai interjects sarcastically.

"It is. It's just … Vegas."

"What does that even mean?" Lorelai shakes her head. "Never mind, what about his fiancée?"

"She doesn't live with him. It's a family set-up. They have an open arrangement. I don't know much more, I don't ask." Rory says quietly.

"What about Paul? You said he doesn't know so do you guys have an 'open arrangement' too?" She uses punctuated air quotes.

Rory sinks her head into her hands. "Oh God, I am awful. I just need to break up with him."

"Which one are we talking about here?"

Rory raises her head and rolls her eyes at her mother.

Lorelai had connected the dots while Rory was in the shower and her anger started to edge back in. "You said that you stay with him whenever you're in London?"

"Yeah," Rory admits quietly.

"You've been in London a hell of a lot lately."

"For work."

"Sure." Lorelai nods and watches as Rory takes slow, small bites of her food.

"Were you there at Christmas?" She prods but Rory doesn't respond. "You said you couldn't get home because you had interviews set up either side of Christmas and the flights and jet lag would have taken up all your holiday spirit."

"That was true." Rory affirms.

"So you decided to stay with Logan instead. For Christmas, the most romantic and couple-y of all the holidays. Sounds so casual."

"Isn't Valentine's Day the most romantic and couple-y holiday? That's what Hallmark's been pushing all these years anyway." She tries to evade her mother's questioning.

"It's not a real holiday though, and commercial semantics won't get you out of this conversation," Lorelai shakes her head slowly. "Rory," she continues seriously and meets her daughter's gaze, "you rushed off after Grandpa's funeral. To go to London. To go to _him_ I assume?"

"I didn't rush off." She replies defensively. "I had been there for weeks, putting off work, arranging whatever needed to be arranged. I did everything I could for you and for Grandma. But it didn't leave much of a chance for me to deal with all my stuff. I needed support and someone to talk to. And Logan was … there for me." Tears prickle at her eyes.

"In a super casual way I assume?" Lorelai counters, a little more bitterly than she intended.

Rory huffs, intending to answer back and snap at her mother, but stops herself. She has no right, she knows that she is in the wrong when it comes to her situation with Logan. After all, she wouldn't have kept it a secret otherwise. But she won't be made to feel guilty for the way she has (or hasn't) dealt with her grief.

She sniffs back her tears and shakes out her head. "Mom, I'm sorry for springing this on you. Can we please just drop it for tonight and watch a movie? I am so tired and I have had such a shitty day and I just _can't_ right now." She pleads, her voice breaking.

Rory can hardly fathom how she got here - crying to her mother in a hotel bathrobe, about the man she's hopelessly in love with but can't (won't) tell, as well as her career which has now nosedived off a cliff, ricocheting off everything on the descent, eating second-rate pot roast. This must be what rock bottom feels like.

Lorelai's heart breaks watching her beloved daughter in such painful insecurity. There's a part of her that just wants to scream at and scold Rory for such poor decision-making; and another part of her, one that knows the feeling of utter despair when you think you've messed absolutely everything up, that wants to soothe her and tell her that everything will be okay. There's also a rational part of her brain telling her that whatever she thinks or says, Rory is a 31-year-old grown woman who can, within reason, do whatever she pleases.

She decides to concede, shuffling from her bed and places a kiss to Rory's head. "Okay kid, but I'm here when you want to talk."

Rory smiles weakly. "Thanks Mom."

Seeing her mother still watching her, she tries to lighten the mood, "Look, the wookiee costume was half off okay?"

Lorelai scrunches her nose in horror. "Which half?"

"Does it matter?!"

They both laugh and though they know it's relatively hollow, Rory is grateful that her mother allows the subject to be dropped (for now).

Instead, Lorelai switches on the television, helps herself to another cup of coffee and plate of food and the women spend the rest of the night in near silence.

* * *

Rory dumps her bags into her childhood bedroom, changes into sweats and accepts the pack of cookies and cup of coffee that her mother offers her. She collapses on the couch feeling sorry for herself as she relays how her 'interview' with SandeeSays imploded spectacularly.

She cannot believe just how far her hubris has carried her from the girl she used to be. Feeling entitled to a job she insisted she was too good for; acting entitled towards Logan while upholding her non-commitment to him; showing a complete lack of regard for her supposed committed boyfriend; lying to her mother for months and months but then waltzing through her front door expecting a place to stay.

It turns out rock bottom isn't cheating on her boyfriend, or losing her beloved grandfather, or being snubbed by Condé Nast _**and**_ SandeeSays, or the love of her life being engaged to someone else, or even the constant lying to her family and friends that 'everything is just fine'.

Rock bottom is all of it. All at once. And this is her life.

* * *

On the other side of the ocean, Logan lies awake with Rory on his mind. He hasn't had a chance to speak to her on the phone all week, having to make do with what are clearly rushed, impulsive texts from her. She says she's busy with work, having apparently decided to give the gossipy news site a try, and he hopes it will be the break she so deserves to have. (Even though it probably means she'll be in London less, he can live with that if it makes her happy.)

But … there's something off about her not keeping in contact like usual and Logan worries that the mentions of Odette during her last visit made her so pissed that now she's avoiding him.

Someone who isn't avoiding him is his mother, whose wedding queries are up to an average of 3 calls a day, and she's getting more and more impatient as times passes. He's also in Honor's bad books because if he dodges calls from their mother, Shira hassles her instead.

It's not just the women in his life who he can't make happy either, his father is evidently resentful about whatever he thinks is happening with Rory if the increased workload and constant demands for a meeting with the lawyers to discuss the pre-nup are anything to go by.

He's struggling and he hates it. He doesn't handle stress as well if Rory isn't near him, or if he doesn't know when he's next going to see her. She helps stabilise him from the madness and he's craving the comforting balance she brings.

He picks up his phone from the nightstand to call her. He'll get her to come to London and they can sort this all out; he'll assure her that there won't be anymore unfortunate _overlaps_ between her and Odette's stays and he can help her with the 'lines' article that she alluded was troubling her. Or, seeing as she's just starting out with SandeeSays, maybe he'll shift some work around so he can travel back to the States and take her away into the country for a couple of days and get her out of her own head.

His good intentions are interrupted by the sharp shrills of the doorbell ringing incessantly. He frowns at the clock, assuming that the only person who would turn up out of the blue at this time of night is Finn, and quickly throws on some clothes to traipse downstairs.

Grumbling under his breath about how he really should try to make some new friends (of more sound mind), he opens the door to find an irate and hysterical Odette behind it, accompanied by half a dozen suitcases and a wide array of French expletives all aimed at him.

Shit. Meet the fan.


	8. Part 8

**A/N:** I actually re-watched _Summer_ to overview this chapter (something I promised myself I wouldn't do again), my goodness that episode fills me with so much sadness and rage.

Thank you so much for your reviews and thoughts, it is always a joy to read them.

Chapter title from 'Only Love Can Hurt Like This' by Paloma Faith.

* * *

 **Part 8**

 _ **i tell myself … what we got, got no hold on me**_

Rory pulls on a sweater, the night air uncharacteristically cool for the cusp of summer, and heads out the front door of her mother's house with her phone in her hand. She doesn't want her to overhear her conversation and she really doesn't want to handle her inevitable questioning. It's been a week since she burst back into Stars Hollow in an exasperated frenzy, and Lorelai has (understandably) been pushing for more of an explanation than "Everything sucks, especially me!"

She begins walking the width of the house as she waits for Logan to answer.

Which he does after only two rings.

"Ace, I'm glad you called. I've been worried."

Rory sighs, there's only so long she can avoid his calls for, but she has no idea how she's supposed to explain the complete cesspit her life has become.

"Ace …" he repeats after a pause. "Rory … are you there?"

"I blew it." She murmurs.

"What's wrong?"

"I blew it!"

"Blew what?"

"What do specifics matter? I blow everything!" She exclaims in frustration.

"Don't." She warns, before he can make any manner of suggestive comments she's sure he wants to make.

"I wouldn't dare." He smiles; they both know if she weren't so clearly upset, he definitely would. "Take a breath Ace, tell me what's wrong."

 _Where to begin …?_

"Everything!" she repeats, pacing the porch.

He waits patiently on the other end of the line.

"I blew the Condé Nast meeting."

"I thought you said it went well and you were following a story."

"I lied, well not about the story, I did pick one up but it was crap; and I'm crap for not realising it sooner; and I'm utter crap for how I handled it."

"Rory, you are not crap, certainly not utter crap."

"I was embarrassed. I didn't want to admit how badly I screwed it up."

"You never have to be embarrassed with me." He promises and it's so earnest she thinks she feels her heart twinge.

"I know you said you were struggling with an angle on it … let me help you. If there's one thing you learn in London it's how to queue for stuff." He tries to joke.

"It's not about that, it's not _just_ about that. It's …"

"What?"

Rory chews on her lip. She definitely shouldn't tell Logan this, it might make her feel better to get it off her chest but he's not going to like it (plus, it makes her sound slutty). As she's telling herself why she shouldn't tell him, the words fly out of her mouth anyway.

"I slept with a source."

Logan's jaw clenches as he takes in her words, he reaches for the scotch glass on the desk in front of him and takes a gulp. It's way too late (or possibly way too early) to be drinking, but right now, he requires alcohol.

He knows he has no right to be angry. They're not exclusive, not by a long shot. She's entitled to sleep with whomever she chooses. But the fact that not only does he have to share her with the boyfriend she can't be bothered to break up with, but now with randoms she meets while researching a story too, was a little hard to bear. (But at least this confirms his assumptions that her relationship with the boyfriend is uncommitted. So he can feel a little bit less like an asshole for that.)

"Logan … did you hear what I said?" Rory mumbles into the phone, having retreated onto the porch swing.

"I heard you."

He does not sound happy but she expected that. Despite their current casual status, they had both always been a little possessive over each other.

Logan considers pressing further but he has no desire to think (let alone talk) about Rory with anyone else.

"So I assume the article is a no-go now?"

"Yep, it pretty much died alongside my journalistic ethics."

He can hear the self-loathing in her voice and despite his own feelings about her declaration, he can't stand to hear her so low.

"Ace, it's not that bad."

I cannot believe that I am defending her sleeping with another guy, he thinks to himself. What am I doing lately? What happened to _my_ ethics?!

"Oh really?" she responds sarcastically.

"Really, plenty of reporters have done worse, some have even won a Pulitzer for their efforts. I know a lot of them, I can give you names if that would help?"

She laughs ironically. "I'm a failure. And a terrible journalist."

"Do not ever say that. Naomi Shropshire being a lunatic has thrown you off your game, but you are a great journalist, you're just going through a rough patch. You've had such a tough year. Writer's block isn't just for melancholy novelists you know, it happens to us all. I still maintain that I suffered from writer's block through high school and college."

"Yeah, that's what it was – writer's block. Not the fact that you'd rather party on a yacht than be caught dead in a library." She teases him.

"I had to go where the muse took me," he smiles through the phone, "it just so happens that my muse comes to life around liquor."

She giggles, and just like that, he manages to lighten the tone of their conversation and of the dull ache in her heart.

"You said in one of your texts that the SandeeSays thing didn't work out." He nudges.

Rory groans. "No, it most definitely did not. Suffice to say, I was an idiot and the less we say about it, the better."

"Okay." Logan nods in compliance even though she can't see him.

She's in a tailspin and it kills him that he's so far away when she caves in, he wants to be able to be with her, to support her through it (to prevent her from jumping into bed with the next line-aficionado she interviews). He's not sure how effective a pep-talk is going to be over the phone but he's got to give it a try.

"Are you ready for the take home message now?"

"I guess." She accedes reluctantly.

"You are not, by any definition, a failure. You have had more success than most young journalists dream of; you have travelled across continents, writing brilliant, thoughtful articles for a huge breadth of publications. Your talent shines through, that's why Condé Nast wanted to meet with you, why SandeeSays chased you. You are intelligent and amazing and beautiful, and you **will** get through this."

He puts time and meaning into each word, trying to connect with and soothe her through a phone line across so many miles. He hates the distance between them and deliberates, and not for the first time, why he didn't quit his job in London and return home as soon as they reconnected in Hamburg.

Rory uses all the strength she has to stop herself from crying. Logan never fails to build her up but he doesn't expect her to be perfect, sometimes it feels as if he might be the only one. If it were possible to love him even more than she already does, then she just might.

Just this once, she'll let her emotions out. "I miss you."

"I miss you too."

"I know I was supposed to come over a few weeks ago and then the whole Naomi thing fell through and I didn't, but maybe I could come see you soon?" She pleads, and she hates the desperation in her tone.

"Absolutely. Just let me know when." He agrees, firmly.

Rory wills herself to change the subject, before she breaks down and begs him to jump on a plane tonight to meet her.

"So, what's going on with you?" She poses breezily.

 _Where to begin …?_

Shit, he thinks. This is it, the best opportunity at a opener for _'by the way my fiancée now lives with me'_ that he's likely to get in this conversation, but he can't tell her all this over the phone. She sounds so defeated and this would be like kicking her when she's down.

When Odette had steamrolled into his home a week ago, declaring that no, she didn't call to let him know she was coming as she wanted to give him as much warning as she'd had; Logan had been thrown, to say the least.

 _He fetched her a glass as she opened a $200 bottle of Châteauneuf-du-Pape without preamble and began to guzzle it in between snatches of explanation._

 _Her father had sold her apartment without telling her, effectively kicking her out ("Your name isn't on the deeds?" he'd queried incredulously. "Of course, I'm not on the deeds. If he let me own anything he wouldn't have anything to cut me off from would he?!"); and she had been forced to step down from her job._

 _Logan had felt for her; in many ways Odette is a fairly typical socialite who loves to spend money and have a good time but she committed a huge amount of time to establishing a charity for young people with eating disorders, and being terminated as chairperson had hit a nerve._

 _When she had complained to her parents, she had been told that it was about time she and Logan settled down and finalised a wedding date, and that her place was in London now ("apparently, we're not acting like a truly_ 'engaged' _couple, no idea why that is?!"). Her mother had not so subtly indicated that if she were to fall pregnant, it would likely help to "encourage" Logan to speed up the wedding ("also, evidently I'm not getting any younger so best to get started on those heirs ASAP.")._

 _Logan had listened to her justifiable ranting but couldn't understand why she'd been put in this position. "Well, it's obvious." Odette berated him. "You did something didn't you? Something to give them pause, a reason to doubt that we were going to go through with this."_

 _ **Fuck.**_

 _He thought of Rory, and his father's reaction to seeing them together, his insistence that his and Odette's engagement would continue._

 _Odette watched his expression change. "I knew it. I knew you'd screwed up. You promised me Logan, you swore to me that you would get my father to agree to the purchase, or the merger, or whatever it is, without us getting married."_

" _I know." He shook his head. "I'm sorry."_

" _We were supposed to just be having fun. It wasn't supposed to get this far. You said I wouldn't have to give up my life." She said, her lip quivering._

 _Logan pulled her into a hug. "It's okay. I'm sorry. I will straighten this all out. I promise."_

 _No idea how, he thought to himself, but I can't let her know that I've potentially screwed up both our lives beyond repair. Not until I figure out how to fix it._

 _She drew back from him and grabbed the bottle of red, "I need a bath. Or maybe a sedative, but for now a bath and the wine will have to do._

" _Shit." Odette cursed as she headed for the stairs. "I didn't even think to check … you don't have anyone here do you?" She blushed in embarrassment. "I'm sorry, I should just go to a hotel, I still have Papa's credit card at least."_

" _No … no, there's no one here." Logan answers, despising himself for even being in this situation. "And you shouldn't have to go to a hotel. It's my fault you're homeless and there's plenty of room for us both, so you should just stay here."_

" _You sure it's okay?"_

" _Of course it's okay."_

It isn't okay. Which is why he's choosing to stay through the night at the office rather than go home.

It doesn't even feel like home at the moment; he feels as if he's intruding in Odette's space, when he supposes technically she's intruding in his. They've never spent this many consecutive days together in such close quarters and they just don't seem to gel as cohabitants.

It's not helped by the fact that the more he sees Odette in the apartment, the more he thinks of Rory there – working on her laptop cross-legged on the couch with her hair in a bun and a determined look on her face; pacing the kitchen, coffee in hand, as she chatted on the phone to Lorelai, or Lane, or Paris; rolling over in the night to lay her hand on his chest, she never fully snuggled in her sleep insisting his body was akin to a furnace, but she always liked to be touching.

"Logan …" Rory prompts. "Are you still there? You've been quiet for ages."

"Yeah, sorry. I'm still here." He answers confusedly. What had she asked about?

"Um … things are mostly the same."

 **Lie**.

"Work's busy."

At least that's true. The more he succeeds at work, the more pressure his father attempts to pile on under the guise of preparation for "the day this company is all yours".

Now he's certain he never actually agreed to ultimately run the entire company when he came back to HPG, but just like with the interference in his personal life it's been chipped away at slowly but surely, until his wishes are almost entirely irrelevant.

He isn't proud of the decisions he's been making lately and he's lost sight of what he's doing and why.

It used to be because that was what was best for his job, and best for his father's health. Then it became about not disappointing his mother too. Then about keeping Odette's family on side while he negotiated with her father and his associates. Add in his desire to make Rory happy, and it was all a lot of excuses he could use to justify not doing what he really wants to do.

 _Which is …?_

He's not exactly sure. But either shipwrecked on a deserted island or a solitary cabin in the woods sounds pretty good right now.

"I can't wait to see you." He says honestly.

I'll wait until she's here in person, he thinks. I'll plan us some special trips and tell her all about the situation with Odette. She's never really asked that much but if I can just get her here, I can explain and we can talk this all out.

It'll be fine.

* * *

She just had to get out of there. It's only been a couple of weeks but Stars Hollow feels claustrophobic to her in a way it never has done before. She can't cope with everyone welcoming her like a war veteran when she's actually run home to her mommy, licking her wounds, after crashing and burning in the real world.

Even her own bedroom is suffocating her now, the walls felt as if they were closing in as April offloaded her own anxieties onto her. Which Rory understands, she's been there – 22, college graduate, not knowing what lies ahead. But, she's 31 now and her life's an absolute shit show so how exactly is she supposed to help April?!

She knows that she isn't due to go and see Logan for another few weeks, but she can't wait that long. He's left her messages. She needs him. So she calls him.

And then any remaining wind in her sails gets thoroughly knocked out of her.

She sits dumbfounded, staring at the screen in her hand.

 _ **She**_ 's moved in. While Rory's been feeling sorry for herself and screwing up her life in just about every possible way; Logan's moved in with his fiancée.

Of course he has, because that's what people do when they get married – they live together. She can't bear to think of him living a domestic existence with Odette (or with anyone) but she knew, _she knew_ , that that's where the engagement was heading right? So why does she have the sudden urge to throw up?

They barely mention his other relationship, Rory took him at his word that their engagement was for show and that it wouldn't lead to marriage but that was clearly crap. And she fell for it like an idiot. She tries to block it all out but there's one thought that won't leave her consciousness – when he gets into bed tonight, and tomorrow night, and all the nights to come, it will be with _her_.

Her phone buzzes with texts from Logan. He knows that that conversation didn't go the way it should have gone, he has to make it better.

 _It's not what you think._ He types.

But what he means is – (I'm not sure I want to know what she thinks.)

 _I want to explain it all in person, that's why I haven't mentioned anything._

(I'm a coward. I know I have a better chance of you giving me the time of day if you can't hang up on me.)

 _Nothing's changed. We're not together, not like that._

(I don't love her.)

 _Please, please, come out in a few weeks. I'll make it up to you xx_

(I need to see you. I miss you. I want you.)

Logan puts his head in his hands as he waits to see if she'll reply.

He didn't hear how desperate she is to see him (she wants to come tomorrow); or how much she needs him, she's confused and hurting and she's reaching for him.

All he heard is once again she explicitly states that he's her back-up when she has nothing better and it stings.

But (against his better judgement and all rational thought) he still can't let her go without at least trying.

She didn't hear him begging "please" because he needs to see her; or that he's made extra special plans for them (she loves Matilda, and has wanted to see the musical for so long, she's always felt an affinity for that book. And he knows).

All she heard is that _she's_ moved in and that he wants to keep her in a hotel, like a proper rich man's mistress.

The Dorchester, how could he? Where he'd taken her when the bathroom flooded and needed to be remodelled. They both put off as much work as possible that week and abused the spa and room service to the best of their ability. Rory declared, despite the headache-inducing bathroom tiles, it to be her favourite hotel in London, and potentially the world, and they extended their stay longer than was strictly necessary. And now those memories are tainted.

She knew that Logan planned to take her back for her birthday, but fall seems such a long way away right now. And them playing the happy romantic couple feels even further.

 _It's fine_. She replies bitterly.

 _Goodnight_.

She turns to find her mother in the doorway, a sad smile on her face.

"What's wrong?" Lorelai asks, seeing the sheen of unshed tears in her daughter's eyes.

Rory just shakes her head. "Nothing, everything's fine."

"Rory … whatever it is, you can tell me. Just let me in. What have you been doing these past few months?"

She pauses.

She wants to say that she doesn't know what she's been doing, that she's not reflective, that's she's doing, not thinking and that's why she's acting so insane.

But that's a lie.

She's knows. She knows that she loves Logan, that she's torpedoed what remains of her dwindling career to be closer to him. That when she should be researching stories, pitching articles and making contacts she's actually going over every minute detail of their relationship, she ruminates until her head is a swirling vortex of pain, regrets and fear.

She knows that she's been avoiding her mother and grandmother as much as possible since her grandfather died, as she can't cope with the fact that she hasn't reached her potential, that he didn't live to see her working at the New York Times.

She knew his dream was for her to go to Yale, and though she did that, it was still marred by some misfortune and less than optimal events. But the NYT was her dream, it's what she told them all she would be doing, what all the work and sacrifice was for; and she wanted to do it to prove that she could. But it's too late now.

She doesn't confide enough in Lane and Paris, because despite their assurances that they have their own problems too, at least her friends have direction – they're married, with careers, and children; and Rory doesn't have any of those things, least of all direction.

And then when she's alone (which isn't often, she's never been good on her own and that hasn't changed) and it all gets too much, she cries.

Rory can't bring herself to say any of this though, and she's not quite at the point of tears yet, but she thinks that Lorelai can see through her bravado. She knows that she's a mess and Rory can't bear to admit that it's (at least in part) about _him_. So instead, she blames the wine, the stress tap dancing, and the pressure to join the 30-something-gang's group chat.

* * *

Editing the Stars Hollow Gazette seems like it will be an excellent distraction to the carnage that remains of her life. An unpaid, dead-end, dozen-journalistic-steps back, distraction.

And it doesn't even distract her that well.

But it does give her a good excuse to not see Logan.

Though when he messages to congratulate her on publishing her first issue, and reminds her of the night she first edited the Yale Daily News (the night she fell in love with the concept of the two of them as a team); she has to talk herself down from running to meet him at The Dorchester, regardless of whether or not it makes her his mistress.

So when Jess shows up and does his best to push her in the right direction and asks her what makes her feel, she avoids the obvious blonde-haired, brown-eyed answer that's on the tip of her tongue, and quips about losing her wallet instead (she has seriously got to get some sort of grip on her life soon).

But he's right about her mom. She could write about her. She could write with compassion and flair and dignity.

She can get back to New York, away from the coddling and gradually diminishing pride of her hometown and its residents, and back into the big wide world.

She thought it was the Naomi project that would be her game-changer, but maybe it will be this book instead.

And it is in a way. If having a horrific yelling match with, and then subsequently stopping speaking to, her mother counts as a 'game-changer'.

She tries to see Lorelai's perspective, she really does. Her mom's been trying to get her to open up for weeks and weeks and Rory's rejected all her attempts. She hasn't explained why she's been seeing Logan, and then not seeing Logan (she can't tell her that Odette's moved in, she just can't. It'll make it real.). Of course Lorelai must be upset and angry that she hasn't given many reasons for why she's moved home and taken a non-paying job when she's struggling to support herself. And then the only time she does talk to her about getting her career back on track is to write an in-depth book about all the painful times in her mother's life.

But she needs this. She needs to prove to herself that she can be a writer again. That she can be who she used to be.

She's lost a bit of herself lately and she feels ashamed that her insecurities have led to her for being so mean and bitchy - about the people at the town pool; with Lorelai about April; about Odette in her own head.

She's so lost in her own mess and desperate for love and support that her unconscious makes a decision for her and calls Logan. Over and over again.

Eventually, she actually lets herself speak to him.

And it's what finally wakes her up and tips her over the edge.

She's screwed up. This was a mistake. She's allowed herself to get in so deep. She never should have slept with him in Hamburg. She certainly should have stopped when he got engaged.

So she ends it. And disconnects the phone before she takes it all back.

And then successively, every other time she's said goodbye to him is running through her mind – when they fought so horribly in the campus pub, he thought she broke up with him; when she found out about the bridesmaids and _did_ break up with him; when she let him go and jump off a cliff with barely a word spoken; when he left for London, tears in both their eyes, vows of devotion on their lips; when she heartbreakingly handed his engagement ring back to him not truly believing that it could be the end.

She can't do goodbye again, she thinks it might just break her. So this will have to be it.

And she's proud of herself, or at least she's trying to be. This is the right decision; she declares repeatedly to Lane, this is what she had to do.

So why does it feel like the worst decision she's ever made?

Giving up her apartment and being rootless wasn't as scary as it should have been as she felt at home with Logan in London, and now that's gone. She knew she could always rely on sanctuary with her mother, but even that's on shaky ground and so she's more adrift than ever.

She really doesn't have a single thing to tether her and stop her from unravelling.

* * *

What the fuck just happened?! He chastises himself after she ends their call. What did I let happen?!

The persistent hang-ups from her had him worried that she needed to vent, but he assumed that she also wanted to visit after all, and they would finally get a few days together to reconnect and talk things through.

But instead they argued (well, does it qualify as an argument if barely any words are exchanged?) and broke up. It's the only time they've fought since he told her he was getting engaged and it's as if they've forgotten how to do it properly. He should have said more, reasoned more, but he didn't want to push her and without pressure from him, she's chosen to walk away.

And now there's so much left unsaid - he thought it was a cliché reserved for melodramatic fiction, but it turns out it's also his life.

How he wished he could have the courage of his younger self, who took his brand new girlfriend back to meet his (insane) parents; who embarrassed himself in front of her mother and her friends, in his attempts to win her back; who declared his love for her so proudly with a public proposal.

When they're together Rory makes Logan feel like he is the most important and extraordinary man in the world. But when she turned him down all those years ago and every single time she left London and left him lately, he reverts back into being that idiotic rich boy who could never be good enough to win (and keep) the heart of the girl who was the best of both worlds.

He's pathetic and he hates himself for it.

They come to the bitter realisation that they set themselves up for this. It was always going to end in tears. The minute that they decided to have an open relationship and not discuss how they really feel, it paved the way for things to go like this. Like when they were first together and they tried to do 'no-strings', if it didn't work then how exactly was it supposed to work now, years later, when they have a shared history and a failed proposal between them?

Both trying to be something they're not. Because what they are, is desperately and terrifyingly in love with each other.


	9. Part 9

**A/N:** I've had to split _Fall_ into 2 chapters as my commentary was running far too long. I'll get part B up as soon as I can, hopefully just a few days.

Your reviews and messages are as always, so wonderful - thank you.

Chapter title from 'The Story of Us' by Taylor Swift – I know, I have a TS lyric substance problem; but my lord these lyrics are all I can hear during the suffocating silences between them in AYITL.

* * *

 **Part 9**

 _ **i've never heard silence quite this loud**_

She wore a different red dress, they drank champagne in a different basement club and they spent the night in a very different hotel room; and what started in Hamburg was apparently going to finish in a rollicking tour up the I-91 2 years later.

Logan averts his eyes away from the bathroom mirror, unwilling to acknowledge the despondency in his own reflection; and he can hear Rory dressing in the adjoining bedroom, gathering her clothes from where they had been scattered in desperation and need just hours earlier.

 _It was a perfect night_

On the surface, those words could sound positive, optimistic, happy. But her tone sounded so defeated, so final. He can't quite read her (he can, he just doesn't want to believe what it means), and he doesn't know where to go from here, if there's anything to salvage.

He's missed his chance (he's missed a million chances). He did this all wrong, he thought a Life and Death Brigade adventure would relight the fire he knows is inside of her, but in the harsh light of the morning, her spark is extinguished again.

He thinks about how he could have ( _should_ have) done this differently. He remembers sitting in the tango club the night before, their eyes desperately searching the others as he was overwhelmed by the silence between them. The silence he triggered.

 _That's the dynastic plan_

It was a guarded, but not untruthful answer to her question. He expected her to respond, he wanted her to have something to say, something to ask of him. But instead his caution was rewarded with indifference.

He thinks about what he could have said – " _not if you don't want me to_ "; " _of course not, I want to marry you_ "; " _tell me not to marry her_ " …

 _Tell me not to go_

He remembers his pleas for her to save him falling on deaf ears years ago. She didn't say it then, back when they were young and in love and had their whole lives ahead of them. It's not her place, not her responsibility, to give him a reason to escape now either.

He never intended to be this pitiful, but just as he has clung to any part of her that she's allowed him to these past 2 years, he'll savour every last minute he has of her this morning.

But then they're downstairs surrounded by their friends; and she declares that she's leaving on her own. He's not even going to get the extra few minutes he thought he'd get.

Much like their implicit agreement to not mention his proposal or their break-up, or to never mutter the words 'I love you', it was as if they were both agreeing to not say 'goodbye' though it was clear to him now that this is what this was.

Maybe it's for the best, he tries to convince himself. Don't people always say that if you love something set it free?

Logan has always thought that was a ridiculous adage – if you love something you damn well treat it right and hold on to it, nurture it. Not that he's been following that particular philosophy well lately.

Instead, there's been denial (of how deeply he's in love with her) and fear (of rejection, of not being good enough. Still.). It's been cumulative; growing and compounding every time he hasn't told her how he really feels, or exactly how much he's missed her, how much he wishes he could get a do-over. It was always leading him here. And here is apparently where it's going to end.

He hopes it will make a nice chapter in her book.

He assumes that Rory will continue her rootless life without him, he's been holding her back these past couple of years and it's not fair. She doesn't want anything he has to offer her in the long term and he needs to back away. Even if she did want him - she doesn't want the society life, she doesn't want to be a Huntzberger.

So she doesn't want him, couldn't want him. After all – money, society, Huntzberger; isn't that all he is?

He doesn't know how he does it. How he forces himself to turn and walk away from her, without saying it.

 _I love you._

The only words that really need to be said. The only ones that will be of any significance at this point. He feels them hanging in the air between them though and he hopes with everything in him that she does too.

His parting words are instead unspoken, like so much else has been, and he leaves her with a sad smile and a corny mental picture frame to remember him by. He smiles wistfully as it reminds him of that particularly romantic episode of his favourite comedy and he wonders if she'll make the same connection. He never did manage to convince her that the US Office was superior to the British version. She's always been a classicist.

* * *

He pauses to take a few breaths and get his game face on before he enters the diner; he is so not ready to break down about this and definitely not here, in front of his friends and a couple of dozen strangers eating breakfast.

Not when there's even the smallest of chances that she might change her mind, come back and follow him through the door.

He slides into the booth where the guys are sat and flags the waitress down to order coffee. He definitely needs to eat but he knows categorically that if any food makes its way past his lips, he'll vomit.

He remembers this all-consuming feeling of being crushed; it's been 9 years (well 9 years, 4 months and 5 days but who's counting?) but it's come back to him as if no time has passed. The overwhelming and persistent nausea relented after a few weeks then, maybe it'll be sooner this time.

For a few minutes no one says a word; the three men glancing between themselves and Logan as he stares into his cup.

"So that didn't work out as brilliantly as we'd hoped huh?" Finn quips as he pushes away his empty plate and leans back with his hands behind his head.

Logan responds with a look so cold it could freeze hell over.

"Don't give me that face. So we come up with a new plan, now we're not as drunk."

"No." Logan asserts.

"You try again, you get her back." Finn continues.

"No." Logan repeats, sterner.

Robert reads the mood and excuses himself to the bathroom. The waitress returns to refill their coffees and the men all nod politely towards her.

"So are you guys going back to being just friends, for real this time?" Colin prods as they are left alone again.

"No, I think we're going back to being nothing." Logan relents to the questioning. If there's one thing he's pretty sure he and Rory have never _just been_ , it's friends.

"This is fucking ridiculous!" Finn exclaims. "We didn't come here for this, for you to be depressed. For you guys to be over. Why can't Mom and Dad just work it out?"

"No, we came because Rory needing buoying up, to be around friends."

"Yeah, you know that none of us believed that right? We assumed that tonight was supposed to be you guys getting back together for good. Robert got ordained online for this."

Logan can't help it, he laughs. He's not remotely joyful, but the fact that his friends have more faith in his and Rory's relationship than either of them, amuses him greatly at this particular moment.

"That's never what this was going to be. She likes what we have - fun, adventure, reliving the old days. That's what I am to her."

 _I've never been bored with you_

Her words ring in his ears again. Fucking hell. Is he going to be tortured with snapshots of their last night together until the end of time?!

Finn shakes his head in disbelief.

"Logan, I've been there with you when she calls - she's freaking out and she needs you to calm her down; she's upset and wants you to make her feel better - and you drop everything to speak to her. And the way she looks at you … you are so not just a guy for fun for her".

"Look, you want me to admit it? Fine. It was a bad idea from the beginning. You guys told me so, you were right. Now it's over. There's nothing left to say."

"Do you want to chip in here mate?" Finn turns to Colin.

"If she's said it's over, then let it be over." Colin inserts, decidedly more pragmatic.

Finn throws his hands in the air in frustration. "How is that helpful?!"

"You don't have to be with Odette but there are millions of women you could be with instead.

"This is coming from a purely platonic, hetero place of appreciation for you – you're Logan Huntzberger, you can have anyone. Stop going after the one girl who doesn't actually want to be with you."

"But she does want to be with you, it's obvious." Finn insists.

"Then where is she?" Colin retorts.

He sees the pained look in Logan's eyes.

"Sorry."

Colin is Logan's oldest friend but never the most sensitive when it comes to emotional support. Finn can be surprisingly insightful if you catch him on a good day and the correct drunk/sober balance. They're trying to help, they really are, and Logan appreciates it.

"Don't be. You're right." Logan attempts to shrug off their concerns as best he can. "You can both stop looking at me like that. I'm not on suicide watch. I'll be fine."

Robert rejoins them, having decided that the overly emotional section of the morning was likely completed and Logan is grateful when he steers the conversation away from his humiliatingly obvious heartbreak.

He vows to maintain his composure until he is alone. They drop him at the airport and as he boards the private plane he's relieved for the solitude the non-commercial flight allows him.

He quickly downs a couple of drinks, anticipating an emotional offload, almost wishing he could cry, to let it all out, but nothing comes.

If he thought he'd been sleepwalking through these last few years; working on autopilot, gradually succumbing to his father's plans for him, hiding behind 'arrangements' in place of real relationships, not being totally honest with Rory (or Odette, or himself); then this must be a whole other level.

Now he's paused, stunted, muted. He thinks he might actually be really broken this time.

* * *

It takes all of Rory's self-control for her to hold it together as they say goodbye – except it's not goodbye at all, it can't be, because they're worth more than this. More than unsaid words and lame attempts to keep the tone light ( _Mr Toad's ride?)._ If she was ever meant to have an epic goodbye with anyone it was with him, and this, even with the dress-up and impromptu rooftop golf, this just doesn't cut it.

There are still too many things left to say, too many things they have left to do.

So much more that they should have had.

It's that realization of utter despair that breaks her after she watches him leave.

 _Just like that._

Those words are going to haunt her for the rest of her days, she's sure of it. Just like _what_ exactly?

Just like pain and fear and regret? That's not how she wants him to remember her.

She doesn't want him to have to remember her at all.

But, she's convinced herself to walk away and it's taken everything in her to follow through with it this morning.

She'd fought off sleep as long as she could the night before, trying to commit the feeling of being in his arms to memory, knowing what she had to do once morning arrived.

She needs to let him have his impeccable society wife by his side in London, with the career and life that he has built beautifully. Someone who will know how to be a success, and who won't hesitate at every turn.

Rory is one who hesitates; it's who she is. She's a pro/con list maker. She thinks things through (or she used to anyway). Logan is the more impulsive one, more fearless. It's just who they are. And she can't change who they are.

She wouldn't want to even if she could.

She's decided. She needs to let him go.

It's goodbye. Forever. She told him so. (She didn't actually but he seemed to pick up on it anyway.)

Except. It can't be goodbye forever.

Even though she's telling herself that she'll stay away, that she won't think of him, won't contact him; she knows it's a lie.

If there's one thing she'll never be strong enough to do, it's say goodbye to Logan forever.

(There's that hesitation again.)

But she's got to at least try.

She makes it into the Uber she'd booked and everything inside is unleashed. The driver checks on her too many times to count and she insists that she is okay, she's just going to have to cry for a bit.

And she does. She tells herself that if she lets it out that she'll feel better, the tears will dry up and she'll be done.

She doesn't stop until they're nearly in Stars Hollow and she wipes her face dry when she arrives at Lane's home. She's going to ask her grandmother if she can stay at the house, but first she needs a shower, a rental car and to pack up yet more of her things and move them around some more.

She cries every day for a while, alone in her grandparents' house, she tells herself it's cathartic and that it will end soon. She tells herself that it's not all about Logan and that some of the tears are due to her mom (they're not, she knows that they'll reconcile once they've both calmed down) or that they're owed to the demise of her career (but that's not true either). They're all for Logan. And she hates every goddamn drop.

* * *

She's searching in the back of a closet in her grandmother's guest bedroom, looking for her nude heels, and it occurs to her – they're at Logan's. She still has at least 3 large packing boxes worth of stuff at his home (she has no idea if/how he hides them from Odette).

She wonders if he has been waiting for her to ask for them, holding out for contact from her. She wonders if he still will, if it is the last remaining link she could utilise if she wanted to.

A week later, without prompting, the boxes arrive at Lane's and though she doesn't want to be, she's disappointed when she opens them to find her belongings and nothing more.

No secret gift, letter, photograph, or post-it note declaring his love for her or with a coded message that only the two of them would understand. He's closing the door. This time they really are done.

The sobbing begins again in earnest.

She knew he would end up having to decide whether or not to legitimise his quasi-engagement, and he must have done by now.

She's mostly devastated to think of him settled, married, and happy with anybody else but there is a small, genuine, selfless part of her that wants him to be happy, regardless of the cost to herself. She supposes that to be the 'true love' part.

But secretly and selfishly (and really, truly honestly), what she really wants is for him to be happy with her.

* * *

Logan stares at the laptop in front of him, attempting to read the opening paragraph of an article for the third time. Try as he might, he could not absorb any information this evening. He glances at the date at the top of his screen again – Rory's birthday.

Obviously she's been on his mind since they'd parted ways in New Hampshire a couple of weeks prior, and much like during their break over the summer, Logan desperately wants to call her. They haven't gone this long without being in contact since they met again in Hamburg. It doesn't feel right, doesn't feel natural, to not speak to her.

But today, he's struggling to think of anything _but_ Rory. He can't believe it was 2 years ago, when she called him drunk and horny from her 30th birthday party. And was it really a whole year since he flew to where she was working in DC for a 4-hour visit so he could surprise her with a birthday meal?

He's drafted countless messages but resisted the urge to send them to her. She's made her feelings clear and he has to respect that.

The clinking of glass on glass brings him back to reality as the beautiful brunette sat on the other side of the kitchen island refills her wine. She gestures to him and he nods gratefully for her to top up his drink too.

Odette goes back to her screens, her attention flitting between her phone and tablet and Logan ponders how this interesting, fun, gorgeous woman who he is living with and supposedly betrothed to, is somehow a nonentity in his mind.

Their relationship was good once; it worked. They were friendly, sometimes _more_ than friendly, but with very little upset or drama as the depth of feelings required for that just wasn't there. But since their engagement and her subsequent moving in, they didn't look at each other in the same way anymore.

(He knows that for him, he's been preoccupied with Rory, but it's more than that.)

They're no longer the ones putting on a show, fooling their parents and their wider social circle, pretending to be a couple (occasionally being a real couple) in order to keep the peace whilst laughing behind closed doors as to how their families lapped it up. It had all become very serious now, very real, and yet the façade was so clear to them both that it couldn't possibly be.

"So, I take it you and your girl split up?" Odette breaks the silence between them.

Logan snaps his eyes up to meet hers, a look of semi-shock adorning his face. Though they both knew that they had seen people outside of their relationship, they never verbalised it to each other.

"I'm sorry." Is all he can think to say.

"So …"

"Yeah, it's over now." Logan tries to bite back the regret in his voice.

"I figured as much. You've been pretty miserable lately. Who is she?"

Logan sighs; he really does not want to talk about this. Actually, he is desperate to talk about this, but just not with the woman sitting across from him.

"My ex-girlfriend, from Yale. We were together for quite a while back then. And then for a while again recently." He closes his eyes in shame, but he owes her the truth.

"I remember hearing about her, you guys were serious."

"Yeah."

"You proposed."

"I did."

"She said 'no'."

"She did." He takes a breath. "I'm sorry," he repeats.

"Don't be. We both came into this with eyes wide open. To be honest with you, I didn't think we were going to get this far. I thought we could bluff our parents, get them to complete their acquisitions without actually going through with the 'merging of the dynasties' plan." Odette laughs but there is sadness in her eyes.

"But … my father's stubborn and old-fashioned. He wants me married off, he wants his estate protected. Heaven forbid a single woman inherits the family fortune."

Logan nods in understanding. "I think my father thinks if he just keeps repeating how important marriage, and heirs, and respectability, and the proper order of things are to me then I'll start to believe it. Hell, maybe I already have started, I don't know.

"He'll drill into me about my responsibilities to the family, the legacy, and how I'm letting them all down and I feel like a kid again. Just that stupid, reckless kid being reprimanded over and over for one stupid stunt or another. Don't get me wrong, sometimes I deserved it. I could be a piece of work, probably still can."

He smirks and Odette smiles at him.

"But he just couldn't see that I kept screwing up because even when I did exactly what I was told, behaved exactly as was expected of me – it wasn't enough. Still isn't."

He takes a gulp of wine.

"I do my job to the absolute best of my ability, the European division runs like clockwork, I oversee everything, the online media division is the only one making significant profits, because of me. I still get articles published regularly under my pseudonym. I attend as many benefits and galas as I can and network like a pro. … I'm the working stiff he always trained me to be."

He drains his glass and pours another drink for them both.

"Sometimes I don't recognise myself any more, what I've become. But some things never change, regardless of how screwed up they all are, I don't want to let my family down. I've done nothing but disappoint them my whole life but I keep trying to undo it all, just to try and make them proud. It'll never happen though. I'm a masochist."

He tries to laugh it off but he hates being the family disappointment.

"You're not the only one. What kind of idiots in this day and age agree to get married when they don't want to? How did we even get here?"

She groans at her rhetorical question. They both know how they got here – arrogance and avoidance. Ignore the problem for long enough, it'll surely go away right?

Logan steels himself for where he's sure this conversation is heading. Time to stop shirking away from reality.

"You know that my father would complete this deal, without us getting married? He wants a stronger foothold in the European market and your father's broadcasting corporation is an easy way to do that. Having us get married and me looking like a more respectable, conservative, future CEO is just a bonus for him."

Odette shakes her head. "Papa's traditional. Unlike everyone else who agrees it's a terrible way to work, he actually likes combining family and business. 'Unbreakable ties' is how he puts it."

She sighs. "Doesn't matter if I want to be a part of those ties. Sometimes I think I'm just a thoroughbred to him."

Logan surveys Odette and the tears forming in her eyes and feels like an incomparable asshole. She feels as trapped as he does, probably more so. He has his job at least, one he knows he won't be forced out of; he's too valuable.

"I'll make the purchase happen. We'll have to pay a little more than my father would prefer and I'll probably have to do some things I don't ideally want to do, but … if I put all my energy into it, I'll make it work."

"Isn't that what you've already been trying to do?"

"I've been distracted. Work hasn't had my full attention." He admits.

"It'll be …" he searches for the most fitting word, " … uncomfortable. Probably for both of us. But I can get us out of this. If you want."

Odette takes a breath and raps her fingertips on the counter.

"My family will not be happy if we call this off now, after all this time. Maman's ready to set the date and choose the invitations herself. And Papa was serious when he sold my apartment, he won't welcome me back willingly."

"I can buy you a new apartment if you can't access your trust fund. You can go back home to Paris. Get your job back. Or set up a new charity, whatever you want."

"Really?"

"I'm offering houses up like they're going out of style lately, it'd be nice if someone accepted one."

Odette raises an eyebrow. "I don't really want to know what you're talking about, do I?"

Logan winces, he can't disagree. Offering the Maine house hadn't been his smoothest move but he's a desperate man and if there was ever a need for desperate measures, that was it.

Odette sighs audibly and fiddles with her oversized engagement ring.

"This has gone on about as long as it can do, hasn't it?"

Logan smiles weakly in response. "I'm surprised we've let it go on this long. This isn't how I imagined getting married."

Without meaning to, his mind flickers to what he has imagined marriage to be like – a shared study; the framed Yale Daily News front page on the wall; him proofing Rory's already rigorous work; her correcting his; her dragging him away from his computer to refuel with coffee and baked goods from the kitchen.

Odette speaks, bringing him back to the real world. "I'm not sure if I ever want to get married but I do know that I don't want to be with somebody, even the way we are, who'd rather be with somebody else."

He opens his mouth to interject.

"Don't try and deny it. It's written all over your face. If us deciding to go along with getting engaged was a ridiculous idea, then you choosing to have an affair with your ex was an even worse one."

Logan stares at the ring that she removes from her finger and places in his hand.

So that's two engagements rings gifted. Two returned. Not the best odds.

"This doesn't get any more enjoyable the more this happens to me."

Despite it all, Odette can't find it in her to feel anything other than compassion for him.

She gently strokes him arm and smiles warmly at him. "You'll be okay. You'll find someone else. Or your mother will find someone for you."

Logan chuckles.

"Well as long as I've got that to look forward to."

* * *

He helps Odette move out, packing up her belongings for her return to Paris. It doesn't take them long, she never did bring more than the initial suitcases she descended on him with in the middle of the night. This was always temporary, despite the contradictory diamond on her left hand.

He sees Rory's boxes in the back of the closet. He's done nothing more than given them a cursory glance every time he's spotted them recently. He told himself that if she wanted them, she could contact him and ask and it would open up the dialogue between them again.

He weighs up his options for a minute before he drags them out. It's not fair for him to hold her things to ransom. He seals the boxes securely and posts them to her before he talks himself out of it.

Time to start moving on.


	10. Part 10

**A/N:** Sorry! When I said it was going to be a few days, I honestly thought it would be and then I had a complete block and ended up rewriting large portions of this chapter.

You guys are amazing and your reviews make my day, thank you.

Chapter title from '23' by Jimmy Eat World.

* * *

 **Part 10**

 _ **no one else will have me like you do**_

He's working late at the office again a few weeks later when his cell phone rings. The hours he's been putting in lately would put even his father to shame.

The fallout from breaking the engagement has been … _interesting_. There's been a lot more silent treatment and not as much yelling as he was anticipating. His parents aren't happy, that much he knows. His mother is concerned about the personal ramifications ("you're 34 years old Logan, how do you think it looks for you to be unwilling to commit to marriage?!"), whilst his father is more preoccupied with the impact on the company (if the European market is compromised because of this, you'll still be working to make up the shortfall in hell.").

He's spoken to Odette a couple of times and she seems fine enough; they've vowed to remain friends but he's not sure how honest they're being with each other. How do you maintain a friendship after almost submitting to marrying someone?

Her father on the other hand is as enraged as she had warned Logan he would be. That hasn't stopped him continuing the negotiations for HPG's takeover though. He might claim to be indignant over his daughter's 'broken heart' but business is business after all; and though reputation is important, money is paramount.

So after all his rationalisation that the engagement was necessary for his job, the business, his future; it turned out that it just wasn't. At all. There was never a gun to his head, he was never going to _have_ to get married.

And truthfully, he knew it all along.

He just hid behind it as an easy and cowardly excuse to justify his casual arrangement with Rory. (And if he's really honest, to make him look and feel a little less pathetic about accepting the role of her piece on the side.)

The cold shoulder from his parents and the solitude in his now empty home has allowed him to wallow in his own misery though, so that's been cathartic.

He's moving on. Or he's starting to. Trying to. He's _planning_ for moving on.

He's working on setting up his deputy, Michael, to take over the London-based side of things, for a while at least. He figures Hong Kong, or perhaps Sydney (HPG having offices in need of his digital expertise in both) to be far enough away from Connecticut for him to really start getting over Rory and on with his life.

At least he still has his work - by some ironic twist of fate, he's actually good at that. But he can't keep on _just_ having work; it's been way too long since he's been up a mountain or down a canyon. He's got to get back out there. Literally. He misses the world outside central London. He misses extreme sports. He misses adventure.

He misses Rory.

But seeing as that's over and, as he keeps trying to convince himself every time he picks up the phone to call her, it's _for the best_ \- extreme sports and adventure will have to do.

He registers the caller ID and stands to answer the phone.

"Why are you such a complete and utter moron?!"

Logan flinches as his sister's voice echoes down the phone line.

"Well you seem thrilled with me. I said that I was sorry about Mom, I thought she'd started to calm down?"

Logan had already sent his sister a sizeable flower arrangement and a pair of antique earrings by way of apology for Honor having to put up with Shira's histrionics over his defunct engagement.

"Well, after the last call we had when she wouldn't stop going on about whether or not there was something 'fundamentally unmarry-able' about you, and _I_ suggested that it might have something to do with the prospect of having her as a mother-in-law; she hasn't spoken to me."

Honor chuckles softly in self-satisfaction before returning to her previous levels of ire.

"But that's not what I'm talking about you absolute idiot!"

Logan began to pace his office, he had already had a very long day and apparently it was about to get longer.

"So what's the problem?"

"I've just had a rather interesting conversation with – well, I could say a little birdie but we'll both know it's an inebriated kangaroo."

Honor pauses for breath.

"What the hell have you been thinking?!"

Logan groans, he might be his best friend but even he had to admit that very little good ever came out of speaking to Finn.

"What have I done?"

"Rory, Logan. What the hell have you been playing at with Rory?!" Honor snaps.

"Oh fuck, that. I can't believe Finn told you!"

"He assumed I knew. I can't believe **you** didn't tell me. He said that Dad knows as well!"

"Dad thinks he knows, he knows nothing, like always."

Mitchum had been predictably insufferable when he told them the wedding was off, making thinly veiled digs about 'friendly lunches' when Shira had demanded to know if there was someone else.

"Well …?" Honor challenges.

He takes a seat and some deep breaths and tells his sister the whole sorry tale. Well, the abridged version. He starts in Hamburg and ends in New Hampshire, and fudges some of the more explicit details in the middle.

He's quiet for a few moments before Honor sighs heavily.

"You're my brother and I love you, but sometimes I forget that you're such a guy – you follow your dick with very little regard for the consequences."

"It wasn't like that." He cringes at having to defend himself like this to his sister.

"Oh yeah, sure, I believe you. You just held hands and walked through meadows."

"It wasn't _just_ about that." He concedes.

"You do realise that this was a monumentally bad idea?"

"That does seem to have been the general consensus, yes."

"Do you not remember what happened last time?"

"Of course I do."

"Because **I** remember a lot of drunken crying down the phone to me after you left for California."

"Thank you for bringing up that humiliation. You swore you wouldn't say anything."

"It's just us here. I haven't told a soul and don't plan to."

"What is it that you want from me?"

"I would like you to remove your head from your ass, preferably without me having to fly over there and do it for you."

"And how exactly would you like me to do that?"

"Well, despite the fact that she broke your heart and nearly destroyed you …"

Logan tuts loudly and shakes his head. "She did **not** destroy me."

His older sister does have a flair for the dramatics but he has always been grateful for her protective streak. They certainly didn't receive much sheltering from their parents so they provide it for each other.

And he did share (maybe even over share) a lot with her after he and Rory broke up years before. He was an open wound haemorrhaging and without having Honor as an outlet, he doesn't know how he would have coped.

"Don't interrupt me," she warns. "As I was saying … despite _that_ , I'm assuming that you wouldn't have been seeing her if it didn't mean something to you."

She takes Logan's silence as admission.

"I thought so. So why did you end the engagement but not go to Rory?"

This time, Logan's silence indicates that he doesn't want to answer.

"I take it that you want to be with her?"

"It's not as simple as that. She doesn't … the feeling isn't mutual."

"You sure?"

"She knows how I feel."

"She does? You're absolutely certain of that?"

Logan thinks on that for a minute. He's never said the words exactly, but it's been obvious right? She must know.

"Yes."

"Well then good riddance, she's a bitch."

"Honor!"

"What? If she knows that you love her and want to be with her and she's been stringing you along all this time anyway, making you feel like you're still not good enough. Then, yeah, that pretty much makes her a bitch."

"Don't talk about her like that. It's not her fault. We both agreed for things to be how they were and we weren't exactly very open with each other beyond that."

"What do you mean? Did you say the words - 'Rory, I love you and I want to be with you' - or not?"

Logan fidgets in his seat, his head in his hand.

"It was … implied." He justifies quietly.

He can practically hear his sister rolling her eyes through the phone.

"You are so unbelievably, moronically, idiotically, stupid!"

"Thank you. This is really helping." He sneers.

"Why haven't you told her?"

"It hasn't come up." Even he knows that's a weak defence.

"In 2 years, all the while you've been screwing around behind closed doors and playing house when no one's looking, your feelings for each other haven't come up? Doubtful."

"She just wanted things to be casual."

"If she really wanted casual, she shouldn't have slept with you." Honor explains bluntly.

Logan sighs. He feels pitiful bringing out the same worn-out, feeble excuse that's permanently engrained in his mind.

"She doesn't want to marry me."

"That was nearly 10 years ago. Have you asked her recently?"

"She called it off. She doesn't want to see me anymore."

Honor takes a breath. "I am not advocating you hassling her. If this is really something that she doesn't want, and she says that to you, using **actual words** , then accept it, and move to the other side of the world if you really want to.

"But … seeing as you haven't exactly been upfront with each other, maybe a little honesty from you would go a long way?"

Logan says nothing; he never imagined that being honest would be a problem for him. Being honest to a fault is something he's been accused of more than once.

And now … his audacity is a shadow of it's former self. He didn't even have the balls to end things with Odette without her initiating it.

"If you carry on like this, holding on to her as 'the one who got away' and never really seeking closure, no one's ever going to match up to how you feel with her. You won't ever move on. And no amount of miles will be far enough.

"I'm not judging. I know it's scary, and she might say 'no', and that will hurt but … if there's even a chance, wouldn't you rather know?"

Does he want to know?

He remembers how he felt when he saw her in Hamburg – apprehensive, knowing that entangling his heart with hers again was a risky venture; excited, just being around her made him feel more alive, more like himself; certain, that regardless of any rhyme or reason, he was always going to take any chance he could with Rory Gilmore.

But he doesn't know if he can keep putting himself through this (seemingly inevitable) pain.

He thought it was the right thing, the safest thing, to let her set the boundaries between them, but relationships should be a two-way street - and theirs used to be. They were equals. But that was way back when.

Honor waits patiently as he runs through his mental pro/con list (just one of those habits he attributes to Rory).

"I don't even know _how_ I would … _what_ I should do. I _used_ to know, but I don't know anything anymore … It sounds naïve when you say it out loud but I thought that if we just carried on that eventually we were going to end up together; that we were meant to be together. Fuck, I sound like a teenage girl."

"Most teenage girls have more maturity and insight than you do." Honor chides him. "And no one just ends up together, you have to actually, you know _do something_.

"But, keep it simple. Do **not** try to recreate 'Across the Universe' again or take her out to tango. That was a dumb idea."

"How much exactly did Finn share with you?"

"More than was strictly necessary. As is standard with Finn."

Logan grumbles. At some point he was going to have to confront his friend about his long-lasting inappropriate affection towards his sister and it's impact on his loyalties.

"Don't be mad at him. He's worried about you. So am I. You haven't been yourself lately … and now I know why.

"There's a reason that my son's middle name is Logan. You're the best guy I know … which probably says a lot about the company I keep."

Logan smiles at her mocking. She might be giving him a pep talk, but she _is_ still his big sister – taunting is part of the job description.

"I believe in you and I want you to be happy" Honor expresses earnestly. "If she's the one, then go get her."

* * *

On the whole, things are looking up, Rory affirms.

She's made up with her mom, though things still feel a little awkward, which Rory puts down to her mother's immersion in wedding planning and inn buying.

She's mostly back living at home, though she's looking for potential apartments (and jobs) in New York, and, when she just needs a little time to herself, she retreats to her grandparents' house under the guise of 'focusing on the book'.

Ah, yes, the book. It's progressing, slowly but surely. (No one else needs to know that since her lightening-speed formation of the first three chapters, she's not been able to write much else. After all, she needs to wait and see how her mom feels about it first.)

She's also managing to resist contacting Logan, and though she still allows herself the odd moment to become engrossed in sadness, the heartbreak is definitely close to easing up now.

I'm back on track, she convinces herself. Or at least, track adjacent.

It's Lorelai's bachelorette party, and Rory decides; this will be the point where she stops thinking about Logan, stops wallowing, and moves on.

She helps Lorelai get ready and they travel to a bar outside of Woodbury where all her favourite women are gathered in the same place. This is for her mom and Luke's wedding. It's finally happening, and she couldn't be happier for them both.

She's going to forget about her own messes for a while and focus solely on celebrating with and being there for her mom.

But then Babette hands her a martini and she remembers the last night she was drinking martinis whilst riding in vintage cars, wearing steampunk costume and saying goodbye to the love of her life.

She downs the offending cocktail and follows it up with a vodka chaser (not Scotch, she's not sure she can ever drink that again).

She unwinds a little, even dances (poorly) and starts to forget again.

Then the fun (and the bachelorette games) begins.

There's 'Never Have I Ever' and revelations about her grandparents' time in the mile high club and Liz and TJ's marijuana induced escapades that she wishes she could un-hear, but in spite of herself she's laughing (and drinking).

But then she's too relaxed, letting her guard down, drunkenly admitting to partaking in body shots, and sex in a hot tub and being naked at sea ("that's what you were doing on that god forsaken boat?!" Her mother admonishes while the others laugh.)

And she realises that nearly all her fun (her really, _really_ good fun) has been with him.

Vodka's not going to do it. Time for tequila.

Wait, no, not tequila. Won't be drinking that again either.

Someone's pouring champagne and before she can finish debating whether or not she can drink this (from the jump to the dressing room to the proposal to the tango club, it's yet another thing irreversibly tied up in memories of Logan.), she's already polished off a glass.

As the games taper off there's tipsy and emotional ramblings (from her mother, and Sookie, then her grandmother, and even Paris) about soul mates and finding 'the one', no one else coming close, and it being worth it in the end.

Fuck it. She heads for the bar and orders a Macallan, neat.

 _In for a penny ..._

Maybe if she can drink like Logan, then she can forget like Logan. He hasn't contacted her, he must be moving on.

(With Odette, the woman who is going to be his wife and have his children, she thinks to herself.)

She bites her lip to rein in her emotions, doubles up her order and retreats away from the group.

She's nursing her second Scotch on the terrace when Paris comes to find her.

"Spill it Gilmore, why all the misery? We're at your mother's bachelorette party, the first night off we've had together in God knows how long, you're knocking back drinks like my mother before noon and you look like Trump just killed your puppy."

Rory shrugs lazily, she was past the point of drunk now and knew that she would wake up tomorrow with the mother of all hangovers.

"I broke up with Logan."

"What? Well that's a delayed overreaction if I've ever witnessed one … Holy shit, there is no Deedee in London is there?!" she deduced.

Rory shakes her head glumly.

"You've been banging Huntzberger all this time?"

"Just the last couple of years." Rory slurs slightly.

"What about Mr Forgettable?"

"Yeah, him too. Occasionally." Rory winces. She hasn't spoken to Paul in forever, maybe he's finally had enough and made her decision for her.

"Classy. So every time you go to London …?"

Rory nods in response. "Yep, pretty much."

"Bravo, becoming international fuck buddies seems like a healthy life choice for both of you." Paris retorts sarcastically.

"I always thought it seemed like a set-up with him and France's Paris Hilton; so are they actually together, you know when he's not too busy screwing you?"

Rory sighs and downs the remainder of her drink.

"I don't know. I assume they're _actually_ together now."

"So what happened?"

Rory shrugs again.

"Wait a minute, I'm sure I can guess … you saw him or he saw you, doesn't really matter, bonus points if it was across a noir-style crowded newsroom though - you fluttered your eyelashes and gave him the baby blues, he said something like 'Hey, wanna come do it with me in a helicopter?' And you thought that all your Lois and Clark dreams were coming true.

"You carried on in your delusions for a while, … until reality came knocking and it turns out that he still wants to get married and buy a house in Greenwich with some kids and a dog; and you're still pretending that you're happy playing intrepid globe-trotting reporter.

"'Oh no, we can never be together, we're star-crossed lovers! Let's just be miserable instead.' End scene." Paris finishes her imaginary re-enactment with a dramatic hand flourish.

"It's like you were there." Rory tries to go along with the joke but her voice breaks and she chokes back a sob.

Paris surveys her with a concerned look.

"I was just kidding."

"Funny." Rory smiles sadly.

"So is this the reason why you've been an absolute hot mess lately? … And before you say anything, the validity of that statement is not up for discussion."

Rory exhales in ragged breaths. "There's a lot of reasons why I've messed everything up lately."

Paris hails a woman who Rory's not entirely sure actually works at the bar and orders her to bring them two large Scotches.

"Are we at the tough love portion of the conversation now?"

At what point was this _not_ tough love? Rory thinks but isn't foolish enough to say. Instead, she simply nods.

"For a start, you have to get back to the city and get your career back on track."

"I'm already planning on that; besides, I do have the book to work on too."

"The book is bullshit Rory." Paris states matter-of-factly.

Rory gasps and is left open-mouthed in offense.

"Don't get me started on you claiming that running this small town paper for no salary is a real job either."

"Hey! The Gazette is a part of my childhood and the book is … was … really flowing. I've never written anything as easy as this."

"Of course it's flowing, it's called memory! Why on earth do you want to write what's easy anyway?

"You are too talented to give up on writing about real issues. You're a Yale educated journalist for God's sakes! You covered the Obama presidential campaign while the ink on your degree was still drying.

"Have you completely forgotten that the most fundamental election of our lifetimes is occurring next week? Write something about that. What happened to the only girl at Chilton other than me who was rooting for Hillary before anyone else was?"

Paris continues her tirade as Lane arrives on the terrace and pulls up a chair to sit with them.

"Get your shit together Rory and write. Write anything, but write constantly. Most of it will be terrible if you're out of practice but that shouldn't stop you. Find your voice again. Be the girl who staged a coup to overthrow me from the Yale Daily News."

"That's **not** what happened!"

Paris ignores her and presses on.

"Then, once you've rescued your career from the hell hole you've left it in, you can get yourself some thrice weekly therapy to stop pining over your trust fund pretty boy that you can't seem to let go of. Either that, or accept your fate and marry him already. I don't really care which."

"Finally, you know! Does this mean we can actually talk about Logan now?" Lane exclaims in relief.

Paris frowns and points towards Lane accusingly. "How long has she known?"

"A while."

"Don't feel left out, she's hardly told me a thing." Lane grumbles.

"What do you want to know?" Rory groans.

"How's the sex?" Lane asks candidly.

"Lane!"

"Please …" Paris rolls her eyes, "She wouldn't be flying trans-atlantically for it if he didn't deliver the goods. And there's nothing quite like a torrid secret and the whole your-mother-hates-him and his-mother-hates-you parental disapproval bonus to keep it hot.

"Besides, we shared a bedroom wall in college, and he used to make her squeal like a piglet."

"Paris!" Rory snaps loudly, her cheeks flushing crimson, waiting for the ground to swallow her up. "What is wrong with you?!"

"Give me a break Gilmore, I think you lost the right to act the ingénue after your **first** married ex-boyfriend."

Lane can't contain her snort and Rory glares at the both of them.

"So who else knows?"

"No one really. Just you guys, Colin, Finn-"

"Dumb and Dumber are in the loop before me, naturally." Paris gripes.

Rory rolls her eyes. " … and my mom …"

Paris raises an eyebrow. "I bet she had some thoughts."

"Oh yeah. They had a massive fight about it." Lane grimaces.

"What?! No, the fight was about the book." Rory reasons.

"I thought it was a little bit about Logan too. I never bought that she was just cool with you admitting that you'd kept a secret from her for so long."

"Well, she wasn't thrilled, that's for sure. I think she's just always been wary of Logan because she thinks he's like my dad or something."

"Well that's ridiculous." Paris interjects.

"I know-"

"If anything, he's the male version of your mother."

"What?!" Rory exclaims incredulously.

"Spoilt, beautiful, charming, wants what they want and makes no apologies for it, rebels against their parents at every opportunity … any of this ringing a bell?" Paris checks off the characteristics on her fingers.

"Don't get me wrong, Lorelai pulls it off in a far less obnoxious way than Logan and I love her for that, but there's no denying the similarities."

"There is. **I'm** denying it." Rory argues.

"You know … I've never really thought about it but that makes a lot of sense." Lane nods in agreement with Paris.

"Will you both stop it?! It's creepy." Rory cringes.

"Choosing a partner who emulates one or both parents is a common trait, and usually isn't indicative of a severe psychological disorder, if that makes you feel any better." Paris states forthrightly.

"That helps, thanks."

"So has it just been about the familiar comfort sex or does he still make your heart beat in time to Jimmy Eat World songs?"

Rory groans at Paris' relentless inquisition and begins to rub her temples. Those last couple of drinks had been her undoing and she was in desperate need of coffee.

"Oh, of course, why do I even need to ask?" Paris nods knowingly. "So what's been holding you back? Because I imagine that he still has the heart eye emojis for you too."

Rory raises her head but avoids the gaze of her two friends.

"My career has been stalling lately, longer than just lately, actually … and I really need to prioritise that."

"I'm not disagreeing with you but I still don't understand why you can't focus on working _and_ be with Logan. He doesn't seem like the type to want to hold you back. He's sort of a journalist too right?" Lane speaks up.

"I'm not supposed to be _just_ a journalist, I'm supposed to be a **great** journalist. I was supposed to utilise all my opportunities and get a **great** job. And then … it would have been worth it."

"Worth what?"

"Worth everything I gave up … when I turned him down."

"Why can't you just tell him that? You seem to tell him everything else."

"What am I supposed to say to him? 'Yeah, sorry I turned down your proposal so that I could write a lot of puff pieces and blow my shot at Condé Nast'."

"You've done so much more than that. Don't sell yourself short." Paris reassures.

"Maybe. The writing and travelling has been unimaginable at times. And I don't regret the choices I've made, well most of them. But I didn't do all of this for an average career and it's not been worth not being with him … God, I am **such** a bad feminist." She shakes her head as she berates herself.

"Well get in line – because I do have an incredible career … but I still want Doyle. It's not that I need him, because I don't. But I miss him, he doesn't complete me or any of that Hallmark crap, but he makes my life …"

"Richer." Rory provides.

"Yeah." Paris nods. "So if you think that that makes me un-feminist somehow then that's your prerogative but last time I checked, feminism means being able to make the same choices as men. No one ever tells them that they can't have work _and_ a relationship."

"You should talk to Doyle." Rory says. "You deserve to be happy."

"You ready to take that advice yourself?"

"So you think I should be with Logan?"

"If that's what you want. Mostly, I think you should see if you still feel the same way once the alcohol wears off. That is, if you even remember any of this conversation tomorrow."

* * *

The sun streams in through the open drapes and Rory immediately begins to experience flashing behind her closed eyes. She has to move, to get out of the bright light but she knows that the second she does, the nausea in the pit of her stomach is going to get a whole lot more physical.

The previous night starts to relay in her mind – the party; her mother's excitement; the bachelorette themed buffet; the drinking games.

Oh … the drinking.

Something's gotta give, she rolls over to escape the glare through the window and the sweet relief lasts approximately 10 seconds. Then she's up and out of bed and running to the bathroom to empty the contents of her stomach. And she doesn't leave the room for 3 hours.

Lorelai offers Rory coffee and a side of mockery when she stumbles into the kitchen and it's when she can't even stand the smell of her beloved drink, that she really knows how badly she's abused her liver.

It's mid-morning the following day when she thinks she's finally safe and indulges in a greasy plate of bacon and eggs.

Nope, not safe yet. Rory and the bathroom floor become reacquainted again.

Dear lord, this is the hangover to end all hangovers.

She heads back to Hartford the next day to pick up some things, and to try to get some writing done before she's got to be back in Stars Hollow to help with wedding preparations.

She's looking through old photographs that still need to be boxed up when she begins to feel nauseous again; and the vaguest possibility of this being more than the result of 5 hours of binge drinking hits her.

No.

No.

 **No.**

This is not what's happening.

There is no chance of this.

Granted, a quick bit of period math adds fuel to the theory but she hasn't been completely regular in years, the frequent cross-continental travel has made sure of that, and her implant has yet to fail her. It's a 99% safe method right? That's why she hasn't always felt the need to back it up with condoms (with Logan at least).

Sure, she's due a new one sometime soon but she gets reminders from her gynaecologist so she can't have missed an appointment. She definitely told them about her address change. And her different cell numbers … right?

But as she's lying wide awake that night, still not feeling quite normal, she heads to an all night convenience store.

After utilising a twin pack of at-home pregnancy tests and not allowing herself to believe the outcome of them, she sits in an almost catatonic state for she doesn't know how long on the one remaining armchair in her grandfather's study.

She starts to daydream about more trivial matters – replacing her watch battery; whether to have pancakes or eggs for breakfast; being fitted for her bridesmaid dress. She fixates on the last idea, imagining walking down the aisle, the delicate layers of silk and tulle stretching as her belly expands beneath the ivory gown, until she's left exposed as heavily pregnant in front of the entire wedding party.

The semi-conscious nightmare snaps her out of her trance.

The image of two definitive lines (x2, **four** definitive lines) flash behind her eyes and all the very real outcomes of what they represent flood her consciousness.

She can't decide whether this happening now, but never before in all the years they've been having sex is some cruel, unfathomable joke; or that conceiving a baby the night they said goodbye (for good this time) is the universe giving them a sign – that it's not over, that it will never be over.

Either way, the universe can be a bitch.

She, Rory Gilmore, is pregnant.

She's going to have Logan's baby.

She briefly considers that she doesn't have to have Logan's baby, this is 2016 after all and the choice is ultimately hers. No one would even have to know if she didn't want them to.

But … she knows, even now, only a matter of minutes after the fact that there's no way this doesn't end with her having Logan's baby.

Her phone is in her hand before she even realises what she's doing.

She needs to hear his voice, needs to vent, needs to talk things through. She's ready to dial … and she has to stop herself.

 _She_ wants to talk to him (or more accurately, talk _at_ him), like she always does. He'll be her listening ear, he'll help her, soothe her worries.

Except, she can't do that this time. As what she wants to tell him will irrevocably change his life too and she's not sure how she can do that. Not after everything that's happened. Everything that _hasn't_ happened.

Everything she hasn't told him. Everything she hasn't let him tell her. She knows that he's wanted more from her and she's given him nothing. Maybe not nothing, but not enough.

So instead she calls Lane and rambles at her for a solid 2 minutes about how she just needs her to come meet her now and not ask any questions and not tell anyone that she's coming.

It occurs to her after she hangs up, that Lane has a family, and a job (actually, more than one) and she shouldn't be calling her before sunrise. She also shouldn't have been descending on her home as frequently and unexpectedly as she has been this past year.

What planet has she been living on lately?!

Focus on one existential crisis at a time.

Does impending motherhood take precedence over her recent self-centred decision-making?

Of course it does Rory, she chastises herself, it supersedes everything.

When the doorbell goes 40 minutes later, she flings open the door of her grandparents' house and doesn't even let Lane across the threshold before she breaks down in tears.

"I'm not hung-over. I'm pregnant."


	11. Part 11

**A/N:** Finally I get to the post-AYITL element of this story! Do I wish that I'd just started publishing the chapters from this point last November like every other normal person did? Yes … yes I do.

Thank you again for your amazing feedback, it's so great to know that people are enjoying this. This part's very Rory-centric but we'll get to Logan again soon.

Chapter title from 'Why Do You Love Me' by Adele.

* * *

 **Part 11**

 _ **you left your mark and it never will fade**_

She's taking in the fall leaves around her, the deep reds, oranges and browns making the town look even more storybook than it usually does. There was something about Stars Hollow that just suited the autumn; a perfect match.

She tries to concentrate on the fairytale scene in front of her, following the path of a fly, counting the twinkling lights that are losing their effect in the bright morning sun. Anything to restrain herself, to stop her from doing what she really wants to do and spilling her metaphorical guts to her newlywed mother.

The last few days have been a whirlwind, an ongoing back-and-forth between eerie calm and blind panic that has given her psychological whiplash. As the joyful adrenaline from the impromptu elopement fades, she feels the panic seeping in once more.

Lane had talked her down, _a lot_ , the other night and she was grateful, but that was three days ago now and she'd be lying if she said she wasn't terrified of the inevitability of telling her mother. In fact, there's only one other person who's reaction she's more apprehensive about.

Lorelai is chatting away about her finding someone to marry someday and it aches. She already has found her someone, and if she hadn't have sabotaged herself at every turn the past couple of years she supposes that they could have been married by now. Instead, she's living a Lifetime movie, and a particularly poor one at that. Her phone pings with a break-up text from Paul and it's a relief, that's one thing off her 'to do' list.

Lorelai continues babbling about 'it' needing to fit and Rory fidgets so much she's practically out of her seat, desperate for her not to see her watery eyes - she's pretty sure that nothing has ever fit like her with him and look where that's got her?

She knows that this is not the right time for this announcement, but as her mother lectures her, it's all she can do not to scream.

Here goes … her voice cracks a little and then the words practically fall out of her mouth - no muss, no fuss, no elegance.

 _I'm pregnant._

And just like that, a bomb goes off in the middle of her mother's perfect wedding day.

"Mom …?"

Rory waits expectantly. Lorelai is quiet for what feels like a very long time.

"So this is what it feels like to be on this side of the conversation. I'm suddenly feeling a lot of sympathy for my mother. Not sure I can forgive you for that."

Lorelai exhales slowly before checking Rory over with a concerned look.

"Are you okay?"

"I'm okay."

"You've been up all night, you must be exhausted. The champagne …"

"I haven't had any champagne. And I'm … a little tired I guess but I feel fine."

"What are you going to do?" Lorelai shakes her head forcefully. "Sorry, that shouldn't be my first question. But … I mean, I don't want to be too crass, or forward but are you …?"

"I'm keeping it."

Lorelai nods encouragingly.

"That's good. If that's what you want."

"It is." Rory confirms, her voice clear and calm.

"I'm not sure that I even have the maternal instinct you're supposed to have but since I saw the result on the test there hasn't been any question in my mind about that."

" _That's_ your maternal instinct."

"It's the rest of the practicalities that I need to figure out. But, as much as it was a _surprise_ , if I'm going to have a baby with anyone, I would want it to be with him." Rory alludes to what she is sure would be her mother's next question.

"Ahh." Lorelai infers. "So, it's safe of me to assume that this kid's coming out with blonde hair and an affinity for jumping off things?"

Rory doesn't say anything but the sad smile gracing her lips is all the confirmation Lorelai needs.

"And it's definitely –"

"Yep, no qualms about it, definitely his."

"Have you told him?"

"Not yet."

Rory isn't entirely sure how she hasn't told him already, her hands itching to make the familiar taps on her phone. In her head, at least, she's told him about three dozen times. If it weren't for the wedding, she's pretty sure she'd already be on a plane.

"I thought it was over …"

"It was over. I mean, it _is_ over. It was over, and then it wasn't over for just one night, and now it's over again."

"Yeah, one night tends to be all it takes."

Lorelai lets out an exasperated sigh. Keep your cool, she reminds herself. Remember that non-judgmental mom you've always worked to be, the one that enabled you to have this incredible, close bond with your amazing daughter – channel her.

"Honey, can we please talk about the Logan thing now? I know I haven't really asked much since that night in New York, you didn't exactly tell me a lot then and you haven't offered up much in the way of details since but I really think we need to talk now. I want to try and understand."

Rory shrugs uncomfortably and looks into the distance.

"Don't even pretend that you don't want to talk about it. You wouldn't have said anything if you weren't ready to tell me."

Rory fiddles with the hem of her sweater before turning to face her mother again. "I guess it was Friends With Benefits. I mean, it started that way …" Rory drifts off.

"In Hamburg …" Lorelai prompts.

"In Hamburg. I was there for that political activist story. He was there for some big merger. And we ended up at the same bar. I mean what were the chances of us meeting there, in a city neither of us had even visited before?

"We'd run into each other before a few times but it was always awkward, there was always some interference from friends or family; but in Hamburg it was as if enough time had passed that the hurt wasn't raw anymore and we were finally alone, together.

"He looked like the most beautiful creature I had ever seen, I mean talk about aging well Mom. And I was in my lucky outfit and there was this moment where he looked at me and I just knew that …" Rory has to catch her breath a little and blushes.

"The lucky outfit was about to get a whole lot luckier." Lorelai raises an eyebrow, rarely finding a conversation that couldn't be enhanced with innuendo, before resuming her more sober tone. "Weren't you already with Paul at this point?"

"Now you remember his name?"

Rory has the decency to at least look a little ashamed.

"Yes, I was with Paul and Logan was seeing Odette, his parents were applying pressure for them to become official. It was all relatively casual at the start, he wasn't engaged, I saw Paul about as often as I ever saw Paul. I know it was still wrong. How terrible does that make me? I knew it was technically cheating but I just squirreled it away in a box in the deepest recess of my brain.

"I had missed him so much, for years. Every guy I met and every date I went on was being compared to him and nobody matched up. I didn't even realise how much I missed him until I saw him. He walked straight up to me, all confidence and swagger and gorgeous blonde hair and _that_ smile … and I was gone. I wanted him and I wanted who I was when I was with him."

Rory had struggled to find the words to start with but now she could feel the walls within her start to crumble.

"I remember being this scared and confused kid who felt out of my depth with Yale, holding onto high school boyfriends for God knows what reasons, trying to figure out who I was and who I was supposed to be and it just not gelling. Then I met Logan and everything changed. I changed. I didn't exactly do it in the most graceful or dignified way at times, but I grew up. I started to figure out how to get where I wanted. He let me believe that I could have anything, do anything … and then I saw him again in Hamburg, years later, and I wanted to be that person again. I wanted _him_ again."

Lorelai nodded, urging Rory to continue.

"We had an _amazing_ weekend," Rory stressed the adjective "and we both agreed that as and when we were both in the same place, more often London than anywhere else, that we would be together. But that other than those times, we wouldn't be together. And then it just kind of carried on and grew.

"I think I wanted more … I _know_ I did, he did too, but we didn't talk about it. I didn't let him talk about it. I know that you're going to have all these opinions and feelings about Logan and you're going to make him out to be the bad guy but … he did everything I asked him to, he never pressured me for anything.

"I called him practically every day Mom. When I was upset, when I saw something funny, when nothing of any significance happened at all. I just wanted to hear his voice and I wanted to share everything with him. He'd proof my articles for me, he'd ask my advice on online media, we'd debrief after important meetings."

"Debrief? _Dirty_." Rory shoots her mother a look. "Sorry, I'm still in shock, I keep forgetting this is serious. Continue."

"And then all of a sudden nearly 2 years had passed and I was still seeing Paul, when I remembered, Logan had gotten engaged and Odette had moved to London. I could see from his phone that his mother was pushing for a wedding date. And he didn't seem to want to stop it, stop us. He suggested that I stay in a hotel, and I just … I felt like some kind of mistress. And I knew that if I didn't stop it then that he would probably go ahead and get married and I would still be slipping in and out of London, in and out of his life, and I'd become this sordid little secret. It wasn't supposed to become that, it was supposed to be simple. When we're together, we're together; when we're not, we're not." Rory takes a breath and looks to the sky, subduing the tears threatening to fall.

"Well I can't possibly imagine why it didn't work out with that irrefutable logic." Her mother retorted sarcastically. "My naïve child. It sounds like the least casual set-up I've ever heard of. Calling every day isn't Friends With Benefits, it's Friends-Who-Are-Married.""

Lorelai watches as Rory worries her bottom lip with her teeth, gazing out across the town.

"And what does any of this have to do with Vegas?" She questions, remembering something about a 'Vegas agreement' Rory had mentioned months prior.

"You know, what happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas …"

Lorelai frowns. "Yeah that's not what that means. 'What happens in Vegas' means if you blow all your bar mitzvah bonds on a round of blackjack or you lose your wallet in a strip club; not getting back together with your ex-boyfriend who you're still in love with when you're in the same city but his fiancée doesn't happen to be."

Rory rolls her eyes at her mother. "I didn't say I was still in love with him."

"You didn't have to."

"It wasn't supposed to be like that. We both agreed that we would keep things casual and not make more of it than we did."

"I think you've been kidding yourself." Lorelai snaps, her shock beginning to wear off and replaced by sleep-deprived irritation.

"No, you're not listening –" Rory begins.

"No. I am listening. I'm listening to you telling me how casual it was all supposed to be despite the fact that you had a boyfriend and he had a fiancée. If it was so casual, why didn't you tell me? Why did you pretend you had an imaginary friend in London rather than telling me the truth?"

"Because I knew what you would say, how you would react. Kind of like you did; like you are now!" Rory raises her voice.

"Well I'm sorry if I'm not exactly thrilled that you're pregnant with your engaged ex-boyfriend's baby and you seem to be firmly rooted in denial as to what you've been doing and how you feel about him. This isn't exactly how I pictured today going for me Rory!" Lorelai gestures forcefully and drops her glass on the step below.

The smash breaks her train of thought and brings her back to Earth. Rory has started crying beside her.

Her Rory; her perfect, sweet daughter. She's having a baby. And she looks terrified.

Lorelai inwardly scolds herself. It is taking everything in me to not be my mother about this. To ask her how she let this happen? To tell her what a mistake she's made. And apparently I'm failing miserably.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to shout. I don't want to fight." She reaches for Rory's arms and pulls her close for a hug. "And I didn't mean that I'm not thrilled about the baby. Of course I am. If you are, that is, then I am happy."

She leans back and holds her daughter's face in her hands. "My beautiful baby girl. We'll get through this. I'm here for you, I promise."

"I'm so sorry Mom. For all of this, but especially for doing this today."

She continues whimpering as Lorelai rubs soothing circles on her back.

"Oh God, I'm such an idiot. I'm single, jobless, homeless, writing a book about my life like some kind of middle-aged recovering drug addict reality star - and pregnant to top it all off. My life was more together 9 years ago, granted I was still single and heartbroken but I had a job – an actual paying journalistic job, one I wanted, one I was excited about.

"I hate how much I've screwed this all up."

"You haven't screwed it all up. Wait till you've at least had the kid, then the real screwing up begins …" Lorelai teases.

"Let me in, let me help you." She clasps Rory's hands in her own. "All that rambling about you and Logan just now? That's the biggest insight you've given me into your life and your heart in … I don't know how long."

Rory leans into her mother's embrace before pulling back and passing her a replacement champagne flute.

 _May as well keep offloading on her …_

"I went to see Dad – I didn't tell him." She assures quickly. "But … I thought it might help."

"Did it?" Lorelai looks sceptical.

"It felt weird. Cold, even. He basically told me that you and I being on our own for all those years was destiny, the way it was meant to be. Like he had no choice. Like he didn't choose to leave us, to leave me. He chose to not be my dad, but it's like he can't see it.

"I don't know. Maybe I caught him on a bad day. He _definitely_ saw me on a bad day. But … I guess I was hoping that he'd say that he regretted not being there when I was little."

"I think he does regret it. He just can't admit it."

"I don't know. I think I went looking for answers that don't exist, or at least don't exist with him."

Lorelai looks at her puzzled so Rory clarifies.

"I spent so long the other day crying with Lane about wanting to be with Logan, and what if he now wants to be with me too but only because of the baby, and that a relationship based on that would be destined to fail …"

"Lane knows?"

Rory nods before continuing, not picking up on the hurt in her mother's voice.

"And then I started to think … what if he can't make up his mind like Dad? What if he tries to flit in and out of our lives when it suits him? What if he can't separate our relationship from his relationship with the baby? They they'll suffer for it. Maybe it would be better if I tried to do it alone …"

Lorelai's heart breaks a little. They've always been close, sharing so much, but one thing that they haven't discussed as much as they probably should, is Christopher.

"For what it's worth, and I cannot believe that I am giving him any credit considering the fact that he has impregnated you whilst being engaged to somebody else – and I do not care how much you tell me that they have a very modern European polygamous arrangement, it's still trashy – **but** , your father and I have our own complicated history and whatever's going on with you and Logan doesn't sound like the same thing. I know how much he loved you … and though I can't speak for who he is now, I imagine he still does.

"And most importantly, if **you** want him to be a part of it, then you should at least tell him and put the ball in his court."

"I agree." Rory concurs calmly.

"I've never planned on not telling him. How could I not? I mean, even if I hadn't seen what keeping that kind of secret did to Luke and April; it's _Logan_ … I couldn't keep that from him. I couldn't keep him from this baby, they deserve to know their dad. He'll be a great dad." She stifles a few tears threatening to emerge.

"I want to be prepared for the worst possible outcomes but that doesn't mean that I'm not hoping for a good one."

"So what's your worst possible outcome?"

"That he doesn't want me, doesn't choose me, _us_ ," she rubs her hand over her stomach.

"But that's not a new nightmare outcome, I've dreaded this for so long. It kills me to think of him marrying her." Rory lets out a strangled sob.

"So why haven't you told him that?"

"Because _she's_ 'Huntzberger-approved'."

"What does that even mean? Do you mean his mom, it's Shira right?"

Rory half-shrugs.

"Shira's a bitch. Everyone knows that. Even Shira knows that."

"Are you quoting 'Bring It On' right now?" Rory knits her brows.

"It was Kirsten Dunst's finest hour, which isn't saying much but still." Lorelai jokes.

"So what if she's 'Huntzberger approved'? Logan didn't seem to care about that when you guys were together – you know, the first time, the less secret, less adulterous time. He asked you to marry him."

"And I said 'no'." Rory interjects, her head in her hands.

"Well, yeah, that had to be pretty jarring for the guy to be fair. I've been there, it sucks. But a proposal is just that – a proposal. It is not a command or an order. He had the right to ask, you had the right to turn him down."

"Yeah and why exactly did I do that? Did I do it because I didn't love him? No. Did I do it because I don't want to get married? No. I wanted to go off and see the world and chase down the best stories, become the journalist I always wanted to be –"

"And there is nothing wrong with that. You were so young and you weren't ready." Lorelai affirms.

"I know. I do. It's what I had worked for, what you worked for, all those years. I wanted to do it … free, with no strings. I didn't even know how to be string-less until I met Logan, he helped me to be brave, helped me trust myself.

"But there was this part of me, when I said 'no', that thought that when I was done being free and I was ready, he would still be waiting … I hear how selfish that sounds, that's why I could never verbalise it, even to him. Especially to him."

"It kinda sounds like he has been waiting, at least a little. I'm guessing you didn't have to do a whole lot of persuading to get him to go along with your 'Vegas' thing?"

Rory squirms. Her _persuading_ mostly involved the two of them naked in a hotel room. It was always pretty likely he was going to go for that.

"But … and I know you don't want me to get all anti-Logan on you … if he really loved you, if he really is 'the one', then he should have waited for you to be ready. Back then, when he proposed."

"I know. And I should have told him that I've been ready these past couple of years. I should have told him how I felt. Neither of us is perfect, nothing is."

Their discussion is interrupted by Luke calling out that there's pancakes, sausage, eggs and coffee all ready for them to take home on the diner counter.

"Unless you find a man who'll marry you twice and make you breakfast. Then maybe that is perfect." Lorelai's smile spreads to her eyes that are shining with joy.

Rory mirrors her mother's grin. It genuinely thrills her to see her this happy.

"Come on, let's get it while it's hot, gotta feed you and this baby up." She quips as they begin to stand.

"Will you tell Luke for me? I mean, when I'm ready." Rory asks; she knows it's a little cowardly but she doesn't really care.

"Of course."

"Will you tell Dad?"

Lorelai sighs. "Sure."

"Will you tell Gra-"

"Not a chance in hell." She interrupts resolutely, whipping round to face Rory as they make their way down the steps.

"I have had the 'pregnant out of wedlock' discussion with my mother more times than I care to remember. This one's all on you."

* * *

Lorelai walks through the house after taking her first shower as a married woman; and her first since finding out she is going to be a grandmother. Mostly she thinks she is adjusting well to both changes.

She moves around the kitchen, putting on a pot of coffee and hears Rory rapping her fingers on the desk in her bedroom. She can hear typing, then the unmistakeable squash of the delete button being held down firmly, more typing, more deleting. There's also the scratch of pen on paper, then the rustling of paper being crumpled up and thrown to the floor. Then she hears Rory gulp as if to hold in a sob.

Rory sits staring at the notepad in front of her, her handwriting rushed and messier than usual; and also the open documents on her computer, where she has been darting between the outline, her notes and her draft chapters.

She naively thought that concentrating on the book would pass some time until she needed to get dressed for the 'official' wedding, but there's only one topic she seems capable of processing at the moment.

Since confessing her pregnancy to her mom, she couldn't seem to stop her mind racing. Well, to be honest, her mind hadn't stopped since she first suspected she was pregnant. She had too many thoughts and feelings (and hormones) to contend with and they were all seemingly at odds with each other. There is a gentle knock at the door and her mom enters the room.

"I thought I told you to get some sleep." Lorelai chastises gently. "I can't believe you let me keep you up all night while you're pregnant. You must be dead on your feet."

"I tried but I'm feeling pretty wide awake." Rory reassures; the adrenaline she's running on at the moment has her wondering whether she'll ever sleep again.

Lorelai gives Rory a kiss atop her head and takes a quick glance at the computer screen in front of her, reading the five words typed out aloud.

"'You Jump, I Jump, Jack'. Why the Titanic reference? This the chapter where you finally determine why there wasn't room on the door for both of them?"

"I thought you said you didn't want to read the book until it's finished?"

"I'm not reading anything, other than the chapter title, the page is blank." Lorelai reads Rory's dejected expression and sits in the chair next to her. "Okay, what's wrong?"

"It's about Logan," she sighed.

"The book, or the current state of your life in general?"

"This part of the book, it's supposed to be the 'Logan chapter', about our history."

"Only one chapter huh? It's gonna be a long one."

"I can't write it, I tried and my dozens of pages of notes resemble the ramblings of a mad woman. It's too hard to write about him objectively." She groans. "The book is so far down on my list of priorities right now anyway. Instead, I'm trying to organise my thoughts for how I'm going to tell him."

"About your scandalous love child?"

"That is _not_ how we're going to refer to it."

"But I've always wanted a scandalous grandbaby. It's a Gilmore tradition. What else are the Hartford DAR ladies going to talk about for the next 20 years?"

"Is this what's passing as motherly advice these days?"

"You want my advice?" Lorelai peeks at the handwritten notes Rory has been scrawling. "Whatever you've got to say, say it first. Because he's not going to hear anything after 'I'm pregnant'."

"I have no idea the best way to do this. I can't believe this is happening. I thought we were done and I'd made my peace with it."

Lorelai gives her a disbelieving look.

"Sure. That's why you're finding it so difficult to write about him, because it's all ancient history and you're over him."

Rory opens her mouth to interrupt.

"Don't even try and object. Whatever ends up happening or not in the future between the two of you, you've been having an affair with him for 2 years and now you're pregnant with his baby. It's clearly not over, it was probably never going to be over. Whether or not I personally agree with or approve of what you've been doing - you're still in love with him Rory.

" … And maybe it's time you told him that." She finishes quietly.

"I can't believe that you're basically telling me to go for it with Logan."

Lorelai shifts in her seat. Denying that she was never a big fan of Logan or his relationship with Rory would be pointless, she wasn't exactly subtle about it. But, they are where they are and where Rory is, is pregnant. And in Lorelai's book, that calls for nothing if not unconditional support.

"I'm telling you to go after what will make you happy. If this is what you want, then I think you should get to have what you want.

"I know that I was a lot younger than you, but when I was pregnant all I wanted was for my parents to listen to me, and to support me. Obviously I needed them a lot more because of the whole being-in-high-school-and-having-no-home-or-income-of-my-own thing and that you don't _need_ me like that, but I want you to know that you can rely on me.

"I will be there for you, no matter what, always."

Rory lets a single tear escape down her cheek before wiping it away with the back of her hand, shutting down the emotions that threatened to flood her.

"I know that Mom, I love you."

They envelop each other in a hug.

"I love you too Rory, so much." She breathes into her hair.

"Look at the time, it's getting so late. We need to go and get you married – again." Rory stands, closing her laptop and puts on her best bright smile.

"Rory," Lorelai tries to reach for her but Rory is already walking to the kitchen.

"Mom. I'm fine really. We can talk more later."

"Rory," Lorelai repeats, a little more pleadingly this time.

"Mom, please. I just _can't_ right now. I've already taken up enough of your wedding day with my drama and seeing as we've had no sleep we should probably get our make up done soon. What's the point in failing finals if we're not pretty right?" she smiles, trying to remember her mother's words of encouragement from years gone by.

Lorelai stands and follows her out of the room pulling her into a side hug. "You got it kid, let's get ready. But if you need anything today, you want to talk at any point, please come to me. It may be my wedding day but I am always your mom first. You'll understand that soon enough."


	12. Part 12

**A/N:** Thank you for your really thoughtful reviews, especially re: Lorelai's perspective/reaction. I forgot to add a disclaimer at the end of the last chapter about this – I have seen Lorelai's response to Rory's pregnancy written so many different ways (from overenthusiastic joy to harsh freezing out) and to be frank, nearly all of them I can believe as she can be a bit of a loose cannon at times! So if even half of you can buy the way that I wrote her then I'll take that as a win.

Chapter title from 'Dark Side of the Gym' by The National.

* * *

 **Part 12**

 _ **i'm gonna keep you in love with me for a while**_

Rory works on remaining poised and level-headed all day. She tries (and fails) to not think about the little bean settling in her belly and whose father she's about to send spiralling.

She just has to occupy herself until the wedding is over and she can call him; or maybe she'll hop straight on a plane and tell him face-to-face; maybe if she turns up on his doorstep without warning and looking peaky, he'll guess for himself and she won't have to actually tell him – ooh that's an appealing (and gutless) thought.

It's not as if she's wanting for distractions today - Steve and Kwan are participating in a hotdog eating contest for two whilst Mrs Kim's back is turned; Lane's in her element performing with the rest of Hep Alien; Doula is attempting to explain the intricacies of the vegetable cult to April; while Paris and Taylor are locked in a zealous debate about the relevance of local politics.

And then there's her mother. Growing up, she was convinced that she was the most beautiful woman on the planet and today she's absolutely certain of it. Lorelai is glowing, happy and at peace at last; though she does keep sneaking glances in Rory's direction to check that she is okay.

Babette hands Rory some envelopes ("It got delivered to us yesterday by mistake with all the hullabaloo with the dresses and flowers arriving."), she takes the small pile and smiles at the label of ' _Mr and Mrs Danes'_ on the top card.

"I'll take care of them." She assures and wanders over to place them on the gift table.

Lane appears at her side after the band finish their set, with two glasses in her hand. She offers one to Rory.

"Sparkling cider." She says with a wink. "I promised to help keep your cover, remember?"

"Thanks." She responds with a smile.

"So how are you doing?"

"Good …" Rory nods. "Paul broke up with me."

"Great timing from him."

" … and I told my mom about _y'know_."

"Wow." Lane's eyes widen. "When?"

"This morning."

"Wow." She repeats. "Your timing is … questionable."

"I know. It's like I couldn't keep it in any longer. I kind of just … jabbered on at her, it would not be entirely inappropriate to describe it as 'word vomit'."

"How'd she take it?"

"Pretty well actually. I don't really want to push the subject any further, because I feel like the reaction I got from her was the best I'm going to get. She's on a high with the wedding, I imagine that in a few days she might have some more to say."

"It's Lorelai." Lane explains. "She'll want to support you. And she'll be an amazing grandma."

"I know, but it wasn't so long ago that her and Luke were considering having a baby; and now I'm having one instead, and with Logan – who she's never particularly cared for and who represents everything that she hates."

"Speaking of …"

"No, I haven't told him yet."

"I'm surprised you've managed to keep that in. The other day you were desperate to talk to him."

Rory smiles awkwardly. She was a complete mess when she called Lane after finding out she was pregnant. She thinks she used up nine months' worth of hormonal tears and hysteria in three hours.

"I still am … in a way. But there's been the wedding to concentrate on and it's probably for the best that I've waited a little. I've been working on what I'm going to tell him, _how_ I'm going to tell him and … if I'd have called him the other night I would have had precisely zero filter."

"Maybe zero filter is what the two of you need. Less dancing around the truth."

Rory nods anxiously.

"Part of me thinks that this baby could be the push in the right direction that we need, to sort our crap out. And the other part of me feels like an idiot who doesn't deserve happiness for not sorting it out already."

"Babies do have a way of providing a focus that you wouldn't have otherwise." Lane bestows wisely.

"What if … he doesn't react well … when I tell him?"

"I think surprise pregnancies can elicit a wide range of reactions. Remember how Zack reacted? Remember how _I_ reacted?!"

They both chuckle softly.

"The initial shock wears off and you figure it out. You guys will figure it out. And I'll help you, like you helped me."

"I hardly did anything."

"You distracted me with Henry Miller."

"Oh God …" Rory cringes.

"You know what, if you hadn't gotten so good at sexting, maybe you two would have broken up way earlier and wouldn't have ended up in this position." She mocks.

"So what you're saying is, I should blame 'Sexus' … ?" Rory narrows her eyes in jest.

"Well, I don't want to say that you only have yourselves to blame _but_ …"

Rory smiles at her best friend's teasing.

Lane quickly tilts her head to warn Rory that Paris is approaching them.

"What are you two doing skulking around whispering in the corner?" Paris accuses.

"We're in the middle of the town, there are no corners to whisper in. And Taylor actually has a very strict 'no-skulk' policy." Lane deflects.

"Ugh, that man! He is infuriating. I tell you, he wouldn't last one minute outside of this pretty postcard town. If I have to explain to him once more about how unelected officials endanger our democracy …" Paris rants.

She reaches for Rory's cider glass. "Do you mind?"

Rory starts to protest.

"What is up with you today? You're being so weird. You cannot possibly still be hungover …" She brings the glass to her lips and smelling the contents, retracts it and stares at Rory with widened eyes.

"You have **got** to be kidding me! Who writes your scripts?!"

"What are you talking about …?" Rory attempts to bluff but the guilt on her face gives her away.

"Don't even try to convince me that you're not currently cultivating Huntzberger spawn … Oh God please tell me it _is_ Huntzberger's … And I never thought I'd be saying that, this is how low your life choices have dragged us!"

"Paris, ssh! How can you even tell?!"

"I'm in the business, this is my bread and butter … well that's one way to get him back I suppose?"

"I didn't plan this!" Rory stresses under her breath.

Paris rolls her eyes. "Sure." She looks behind her, distracted by Tim and Gabriela's cries. "Crap! The kids are into their third round of cake, I need to get over there."

She gestures to Lane. "You got this?"

Lane nods.

"Don't even think about choosing an OB without me, I'll send you a shortlist later tonight." She instructs Rory firmly before darting back towards the children.

Rory sighs audibly.

"I'm gonna say what I always say – you are the one who continues to be friends with her." Lane jokes dryly.

Rory returns to mingling with the other wedding guests as Lane relieves her mother from twin-watching duty. She gets herself some cake and is sitting at a quiet table when Emily comes up to her, desperate to escape a conversation with Liz.

"Well it's certainly not my personal style but your mother does know how to throw an enjoyable event."

"Actually, it was Kirk who did a lot of the execution … you remember that man who came to dinner that time." She points at him, cradling Petal like a baby in between his and Lulu's arms on the dance floor.

"Ah … of course. Well that explains a lot." Emily shrugs.

The older woman sips from her glass, surveying the scene in front of her.

"Your grandfather would have loved to have witnessed this. To have had the chance to walk her down the aisle."

"I know." Rory agrees. "I think he would have loved that you got to do it though."

"I was very honoured that she asked me. It meant a lot."

They smile at each other, a tear forming in each of their eyes.

"It's just such a shame that it's taken them so long to get here. So many lost opportunities. When they could have just been … happy."

Rory wipes away some more tears. She feels ridiculous; like some kind of sobbing machine, everything is setting her off.

"Rory, are you okay?" Emily asks and though her granddaughter emphatically nods, there is more anguish in her eyes than that owed to missing her beloved grandfather.

"Is there something you'd like to tell me?" She challenges deceptively.

Rory sighs in disbelief.

First Paris; now Grandma. Have I got some sort of sign over my head?!

She deliberates for a moment ( _What difference is one more person knowing going to make?_ ) and takes a breath before rushing though her reply.

"I'm pregnant, Grandma.

"And the baby's father is Logan.

"We've been seeing each other for … a while. In secret. Now we're broken up. Again. I thought it was for the best, but …

"Obviously, you already know that he is engaged to somebody else. And I was also seeing somebody else too.

"It's been a bit of a mess."

Rory takes one more deep breath.

"I'm very sorry if this disappoints you. I know that I was supposed to be better than this. Everything you and Grandpa did for me, gave to me. Grandpa would be ashamed to see me like this.

"I really am sorry."

Well, she thinks, that would absolutely be defined as 'word vomit'.

Rory stares at her hands after finishing her confession, but her grandmother remains silent for so long that eventually she raises her head to look at her.

Emily's lips are pursed as though she is weighing up how she should respond. Then she speaks in a clear and measured tone.

"No one is, or will ever be, ashamed of you. Not me, and certainly not your grandfather.

"Obviously this isn't an ideal situation, but there is time to sort that all out. A baby is a blessing. You were a blessing to this family and you turned out beautifully despite your mother being a lot younger than you are now and insisting on handling things alone. You are a grown woman, with an education and a career to be proud of. And you don't have to be alone. I, for one, will do whatever I can to help you."

Rory bursts into tears and collapses into her grandmother's arms.

"Thank you Grandma."

"Thank you for telling me Rory, for trusting me enough to share this."

"You're a lot calmer than I thought you would be." Rory explains as she leans back into her seat and reaches for a tissue to dry her face.

"Maybe it's my age. Maybe it's the sea air in Nantucket … Or maybe it's the Valium I had this morning."

Lorelai walks towards them, having witnessed Emily's shock and Rory's breakdown and deducing what had likely caused it, she decided to go and help diffuse the situation.

However, she arrives at the table finding things remarkably peaceful.

"Mom. Rory. Everything okay?" She says as she sits down.

The three women share looks, letting them all know exactly who knows what.

"Everything is fine Lorelai. There is no need to come and rescue her from me. I was simply letting Rory know that whatever she needs, I will support her."

"Well this is a new look for you." Lorelai cracks snarkily.

Emily responds with a tut and a roll of the eyes, then refocuses on her granddaughter.

"Just remember Rory - you are a Gilmore, not a Pennilyn Lott."

Rory furrows her brow. "I'm not following Grandma."

"Your grandfather was engaged when I met him. He wasn't for very long after that." Emily raises an eyebrow.

"Mom." Lorelai admonishes.

"Engaged isn't married, it means there's still time."

"Mom!"

"Besides, his heart isn't in this marriage. It's obvious that this is an arranged match and there's only one reason why they would have such a drawn-out engagement. It's clearly not what he wants. You should help him see what he does want." Emily gives her a sly look.

Rory's eyes go wide. "I beg your pardon?"

"Don't try and be cute Rory. You clearly have some wiles seeing as you're pregnant."

"I can't believe _these_ words are coming from _your_ mouth." Lorelai shakes her head.

"Don't be so naïve Lorelai, sometimes if you want something you have to be ruthless and go after it. I'd argue that the man you love and the father of your child would be worth a bit of tenacity. French heiresses be damned."

"When exactly did I become the moral compass out of the three of us?!" Lorelai exclaims incredulously.

Emily turns to Rory, gesturing towards her daughter.

"Do you want to be nearly 50 before you get to marry the man you love, the man you're meant to be with?"

"I am **NOT** 50." Lorelai responds fiercely. " … Hold on, you think that Luke is the one I'm meant to be with?" She murmurs, genuinely touched at her mother's admission.

"Please Lorelai, it may be your wedding day but it is not all about you."

Rory sighs, she's convinced that these two women could find a reason to bicker over anything.

Thankfully they're interrupted by calls from the dance floor.

"So when do you plan on speaking to Logan about this? I assume you haven't yet?" Emily quizzes her.

"Mom, don't lecture her about this." Lorelai pleads as she is dragged back to the party, mouthing ' _Sorry, kid'_ to Rory as TJ enthusiastically begins to spin her around.

"If she had her way, you wouldn't involve him at all." Emily mutters critically.

"I don't know, she's been supportive so far, even though Logan is … not her favourite."

"Well _I_ like Logan," Emily declares. "In some ways he reminded me of Richard when he was younger. The two of you would make a darling family; I've always thought so. As did your grandfather, if that would help sway you."

Rory smirks at her grandmother's complete lack of subtlety. She thinks she likes this less inhibited version of her.

"It's been very … _complicated_ with Logan. I wish that I had … been more honest.

" … I feel like I've wasted so much time." Rory admits.

"Yes. And now you're wasting even more." Emily reprehends bluntly.

"Every day you don't go after what you want, every day you wait, is another day wasted, another day you won't get back. And listen to me Rory Leigh Gilmore, you want to have all the days together that you possibly can."

With that, Emily stands, places a comforting hand on her granddaughter's shoulder and leaves Rory to contemplate her words.

* * *

Rory is making small talk with Michel and Frederick a little while later, anxiously wringing her hands together and jittering up and down on her feet when Lane pulls her to one side.

"You should just call him."

"Now?!" She replies in shock.

"Now or never?"

"It is not now or never, there is tomorrow and all the days after that. All the days that are not my mom's wedding day. I can't do this on her wedding day."

"You are kind of already doing this on her wedding day. Do you honestly think she will have thought about anything else since you told her?

"You're freaking out, and it's understandable. I get it, I do. But everyone else is picking up on it too and unless you plan on telling quite literally everybody you know before you tell Logan, I would just call him now. I'll stay with you if you want."

Rory is quiet, and absorbs her friend's words. Eventually she nods.

"Let's go to the diner, it's empty, it'll be quiet and private. I still have a key."

A few moments later, Rory is staring at the phone in her hands, willing herself the courage to dial.

"You will feel better once you've spoken to him." Lane reassures, giving her shoulder a gentle squeeze.

"What if he hangs up on me, what if he hates me, what if he never wants to see me again, or the baby?!" Rory speaks, her words becoming more and more frantic.

She was so sure earlier, she knew that she had to tell him, that she wanted to do it soon. But now, nerves overwhelmed her.

"Even if any of those things happen, which personally I feel is unlikely, at least you will know. You can let yourself out of this limbo."

"Do you really think I should tell him on the phone? Won't that freak him out?"

"I imagine he's going to freak out a bit regardless of the medium."

Rory nods. Now or never.

She presses the 'call' button and holds the phone to her ear.

"It's going straight to voicemail. Wait, don't panic!"

"I had no intention of panicking." Lane deadpans.

Rory takes a deep breath.

"Hey. Hello. Hi. It's me. Rory, in case that's not clear. I'm not sure who else you know who would begin with three different greetings but ... yeah.

"So, I know I said that we probably shouldn't talk any more but that was stupid. I've picked up the phone to call you like a million times since … you know.

"I have some things that I need to say, some things I need to tell you. God, there's so much I need to tell you." Her eyes drift down towards her still-flat stomach.

"And ... actually you know what else is stupid - our whole Vegas thing. That's not even what 'what happens in Vegas means', did you know that? Of course you do but you just let me keep on rambling on about it because every time you tried to bring it up, I shut it down. But I'm not shutting it down anymore. I'm ready to talk about it now ..." Her voice breaks as tears start to well up.

"So anyway, I really need to talk to you but I don't want to just talk to your voicemail. So ... call me back?"

Lane nods, encouraging her to come to an end but Rory doesn't stop talking.

"Or we can meet in person ... yeah it's more of an 'in person' conversation. But hey, the Atlantic Ocean is big, second largest ocean in the world, so we can just talk on the phone if that's better."

Lane grimaces, she probably should have helped Rory prep for this call.

"So, yeah, call me back when you get this message and we can talk then and I can say what I need to say." She begins to withdraw the phone from her ear before jolting back into her one-sided conversation.

"Actually! I just have one thing that I need to say before I speak to you.

"Don't get married.

"Just in case you were going to in between me leaving this message and us talking - don't.

"Don't get married.

"I know that I should have said it sooner and you've been waiting for me to say it, you were waiting in the tango club, I was going to say it but then I didn't say it, but I am saying it now.

"You should **not** get married.

"I mean, you should, if you want to, but only to me.

"Wow, okay, that just slipped out! I probably shouldn't have said that on your voicemail."

Lane makes a 'wrap it up' gesture.

"So, in summary, call me back and don't get married. Okay, bye."

Rory presses to end the call and clutches the phone to her chest, shaking.

"So that's what an out-of-body experience feels like." She looks towards her best friend.

Lane gives Rory a thumbs up and a slightly maniacal smile.

"Stellar. Your best message ever I would say. It would probably have been quicker to play the audio of 'War And Peace' in full -"

"What have I done? I couldn't have just said 'call me when you get this'?"

"Well you did say that, in amongst the other stuff. At least you didn't blurt out about the baby, that would be tough to pick up on a voicemail."

"On a scale of 1-10, how crazy did that sound?"

" _Well_ … I don't think I needed to worry about your mouth and brain developing a filter."

"Great." Rory paces back and forth, her anxiety rising to previously unparalleled levels. "I wish I had my tap shoes right now."

"Shall we head back out there?" Lane gestures to the lively wedding reception. "It's almost time for the second flash mob and I've been rehearsing for 3 weeks straight so I don't want to miss it."

Rory gazes out of the window, she thought that calling Logan would alleviate her stress, not add to it. Why could he not just pick up?!

* * *

Logan taps his foot impatiently; a relatively quick cross-country flight has never felt this long. He never wanted to be one of those people who feels bereft without their phone, in fact, he's always relished their incapacity in the air. It's a welcome change from the constant pings of emails and texts.

But then, he's not usually attached to it because he's waiting for the response to him laying his heart on the line.

He'd been kidding himself, canvassing online for different apartments in Hong Kong's Central district, when he decided to just do what he should have done the second their phone call ended, and do as his sister told him to.

He was going to follow Honor's advice – keep it simple. And what's simpler than putting pen to paper?

It's very _Rory_.

But …

Maybe it was a bad idea? He wanted to give her a chance to process what he's saying without pressuring her, but he's realising now that in doing so, he's effectively placing himself in limbo for an indefinite amount of time.

And all he's got for company are his own pathetic thoughts, allowing him to play out all the ways in which he's screwed up, all the ways he could continue to screw up in the future. Convincing him that now she's going to know for sure what a feeble, lovesick excuse for a human being he is and why would she even want that?!

After he'd sent it, he wished that he'd explained more, apologised more but he figured he'd articulated a pretty clear, solid message and if it was enough to give him a foot in the door; he could explain, apologise and hopefully get some answers from her too.

But …

Should he have been even clearer? Should he have gone bigger?

I should have asked her to marry me, he berates himself. Screw the letter, I should have just turned up with the world's biggest diamond and gone for it …

… No!

If there's one thing he's actually managed to learn in his life it's that the shock proposal was a really bad idea the first time.

He thinks she loves him, right? He _knows_ she loves him?

But … he knew she loved him before, he thought she was going to say yes when he proposed.

Didn't make that any less of a fuck up.

"I am useless, I am an idiot … I'm actually going mad." He mutters under his breath.

It's only been a day, he consoles himself. She should have received it yesterday so maybe she's just taking her time to think about what he's written … and wasn't that the whole point?

Maybe she hasn't even got it?

He knew he shouldn't have sent it to Lorelai's house. He'd seen a photo of them together on Instagram and inferred that she was probably at home again. But maybe she isn't.

Perhaps she is but Lorelai or her overindulged dog got to the letter first and destroyed it.

He should have just sent an email. Letters are more romantic but read receipts bring peace of mind.

Why did he get himself talked into a last-minute board meeting in Palo Alto as soon as he'd got to the US? Why didn't he wait to mail it to her until he'd got back to the East Coast and could … keep his ringer set to loud and wait around uninterrupted for the phone to ring?

He's woeful. It's official.

His brain doesn't stop torturing him until he lands and he can amuse himself with the routine of airport arrivals.

His phone awakens from airplane mode, buzzing with several notifications but there's only one that catches his attention.

A new voicemail from Rory.

Shit! He knew that he shouldn't have left himself un-contactable after mailing it to her.

He has to pause and find himself a wall to lean against before allowing himself to listen to it.

This could be her telling him it's over ( _again_ ).

To tell him to stop being such a weird stalker and who even sends letters these days?!

But by the time she's gotten to _"hi",_ he can practically _feel_ her nerves alongside his own and it's comforting, and he knows that this was the best decision he's ever made.

He smiles automatically as he listens to her ramble adorably.

She's not making the most amount of sense, but she's calling him so he'll take what he can get.

She'll say something about the letter soon, right?

" _I'm ready to talk about it now"_

Yeah, this doesn't make much sense at all.

She can't have got it.

So she's just calling me out of the blue because …?

" _Don't get married."_

If it were possible, his smile grows wider.

He's waited so long to hear those words.

She wants it too. Even without the letter.

All of a sudden, a dozen different possibilities flash through his mind and they all include their shared study and countless coffee cups loaded into the dishwasher and no more mentions of 'Vegas'.

He listens to it again straight away so that he can be sure he isn't hallucinating.

There's a driver waiting for him but he relieves him and books a rental car instead. Messages Honor to make his excuses for family dinner at their parents' house.

Before pulling out of his parking space he debates calling Rory once again.

No. What he wants to say, he wants to say in person. He wants to hear what _she_ has to say in person.

He settles for a few quick texts instead.

 _Just got off a flight._

 _On my way._

 _See you soon._

Then another quickly –

 _xxx_

And finally -

 _PS: Check your mailbox_

* * *

 **A/N:** I know this is not a popular approach but as if I'm keeping them apart longer than is strictly necessary, watching AYITL was enough masochism for me.


	13. Part 13

**A/N:** Um … so this took longer than I'd anticipated. Usual excuses – adulthood, real life, blah, blah, blah … The majority of this chapter has been written up for over a year, but I just couldn't gel it all together.

Also, this ran hella long – apologies. My ability to keep chapter length and pace consistent is non-existent.

Thank you for the reviews and encouraging prompts; whoever is still out there reading this, I hope you like it.

Chapter title from 'Perfect' by Ed Sheeran, which has been my Rory and Logan anthem since the first time I heard it.

* * *

 **Part 13**

 _ **i know we'll be alright this time**_

Rory refreshes her mail app more times than she can count, cursing the apparent ineptitude of her cell's internet coverage, before she realises that Logan was likely referring to the old school variety of mailbox. The one on her front lawn; that she would have to leave the reception to go and check.

Would that be frowned upon as maid of honour? Abandoning the festivities to go and follow her own romantic melodrama?

Probably. And she has stolen a significant portion of her mother's thunder already today.

Some of the wedding guests are starting to leave and her erratic behaviour is drawing _knowing_ concern from others. ("Are you sure you don't want anything more to eat Rory?") ("Be sure to drink plenty of water before you go to bed tonight won't you dear?")

First the bachelorette party; now this. A new reputation as the town drunk is just what she needs.

She has to pull herself together and stop repeatedly checking her phone screen to reassure herself that what's happened in the last hour has actually occurred.

Time to compartmentalize –

Yes, Logan has apparently sent her an email or a letter or some form of written communication, the contents of which are (and, as is seeming increasingly likely, forever will be) a mystery to her. But she's choosing to assume that said contents are positive.

… Just like the pregnancy tests were.

Yes, she's pregnant and through her avoidance of speaking to Logan, she's become such an inconsolable, neurotic mess that she's blurted out confessions to both her mother and grandmother that she should probably have kept to herself.

She'll blame the hormones, there's got to be some benefits to pregnancy right?

And yes, he is on his way to see her because she called and left him a crazy message where she said very little of any substance except for ordering him to not marry Odette (or anyone but herself).

She has no idea how long she's going to be waiting though, _just off a flight_ from and to where, exactly? She's assuming he's Stateside and when he said 'see you soon' he meant tonight but she's not certain.

Sure, she could text him and ask for clarification but this has all happened so quickly and at this point, all she really wants is to see him face-to-face.

It'll help assure her that this is all happening, that after all the denial, repressed feelings and hidden tears; in the end, it was as simple as her asking him for what she wants.

But for right now, the wedding is starting to wind down and so she joins Lorelai and Emily in saying goodbye to various Gilmore relatives.

They both express concern at the nerves etched on her face and she reassures that she is okay, just tired. They both want to question her further, but she isn't willing to tell them anymore about Logan until she has actually spoken to him herself. Rory promises again that she is fine, and apologises to her mother for being so distracted all day.

She continues to clock watch as she assists with clearing tables, wondering if she will manage to get back to the house and find whatever he has sent before he arrives (he is coming _here_ right? She assumes so.).

And then it hits her – Babette gave her some mail earlier, she assumed it was all cards of congratulations for her mom and Luke but she didn't check it all. She makes her way back to the gift table and rifles through the large accumulation of well-wishes.

There, underneath the previously noticed _Mr and Mrs Danes_ and an ad for a local farmer's market is an envelope addressed to her in Logan's recognisable hand.

She retreats away from the mellowing party to sit on a bench that provides her relative privacy.

Rory gazes at the object in her hand for a full minute before she allows herself to open the envelope.

Inside is a handwritten letter and a computer print-out. She spots Logan's writing again ( _Dear Rory …_ ) and a lump immediately forms in her throat. She almost doesn't want to let herself believe that this is what she thinks it is; it could be the beginning of her getting everything that she wants and that scares her more than it probably should.

She decides the print-out is unlikely to be too emotionally debilitating so she braves reading it first.

… She's wrong.

It's a copy of the 'Top 10 Things To See And Do In Hamburg' article that he forwarded to her so many moons ago – number 1 is crossed out and scrawled in black ink are the words ' _get a second chance with the love of your life_ '.

Yeah, this definitely feels like the beginning of … _everything_.

She doesn't even try to stifle her tears, as she frantically readjusts the papers to open the letter fully.

Her heart stops as she begins to read.

 _Dear Rory,_

 _I don't know exactly how I should start this. Actually I do and I hate the fact that I have to tarnish this letter to you by even mentioning this but I want to be completely clear with you – the engagement is over. It was never what an engagement or marriage should be and it is a mistake that I will regret for the rest of my life. I was cowardly and I should have admitted that before and I'm sorry._

 _The only person I have ever wanted to marry, is you._

 _I still mean everything I said that day. I still don't know a lot, and I still know that I love you._

 _I regret saying it all too soon, without preamble, and I am so sorry for pressuring you. This is my way of letting you know how I feel, without strings, without obligation._

 _I am so sorry that I pushed the proposal – I don't know exactly what I was thinking. I was scared, I was excited, I felt like I was finally ready for the rest of my life, that I had a life to offer you and I wanted it to start right away._

 _It killed me when you said 'no', even though I know it was the right thing for you to do, I so desperately wanted you to take a chance with me again._

 _I have regretted it ever since, I can't believe I wasted so much time not being with you. And now I can't believe how much time we've spent together these past two years without really being together._

 _So I'm asking for another chance._

 _You want to jump? We'll jump. You feel like knocking people's hats off? We'll take to the sea._

 _You want to stay inside, drinking coffee in our pyjamas and review articles that you've already edited to perfection? We can do that too._

 _When I gave you that rocket, I made you a promise that I would wait 40 years to be with you. I've waited 9.5 years and I'll wait 30.5 more for the chance to be old with you. But I would rather start now and get to grow old with you._

 _I never believed in true love until I met you but I know now that if you're unbelievably lucky you get to find that person, that one in your life. And you're mine Ace, my one. I adore you Rory, I always have and I always will._

 _I know that I'm probably too late … but I hope I'm not._

 _I will love you forever,_

 _Logan._

Rory sobs, she can barely believe the words she's reading – everything she's been waiting to hear for so long – and beams through the tears.

She rereads it a couple of times to convince herself that it's real, basking in the feelings it elicits in her. Joy – that she has a second (or maybe it's the third?) chance with the only man she has ever envisaged a future with. Regret – that she could have had all this years ago if she'd only been half as open and honest as she's been today. Relief – because it feels as if after all the pain and fear and longing, it's finally over now.

* * *

Logan pulls up to the side of the road, confused by the obvious signs of a large celebration taking place in the centre of the town on a Sunday night. He's not sure he's going to be able to drive through the square to get to Lorelai's house.

That's if Rory's even there. Whatever this event is, it looks like a pretty big deal and she usually takes part in Stars Hollow festivities if she's at home.

He really should have planned this better, he hasn't even arranged a place to meet her and he can't remember if he told her what time to expect him. He should never have flown commercial and adhered to their 'no phone calls' policy – it'll be strictly private air travel from now on. But then again, he's pretty sure that Rory's voicemail is the best thing he's ever heard in his life so maybe it was worth it.

He takes his chances and presumes that she's not at home, dropping her a quick text explaining that he's just down the street from Miss Patty's but doesn't want to crash the party.

He steps out of the car and takes a few calming breaths. He can't quite believe he's here. The last time he was in Stars Hollow, he thought it might be the start of them getting back on track, but as it turns out it … wasn't. This time feels different though, like it might be the start of something even better.

He only has to wait a few minutes before she emerges round the corner in an evening gown and heels, a shrug around her shoulders hopefully keeping the autumnal chill at bay. His breath hitches at the sight of her and he knows in this instant that he is going to remember exactly how beautiful she looks at this moment for the rest of his life.

She spots him leaning against a car and despite how desperate she has been to see him, to speak to him, to touch him; she is suddenly overcome with an unexpected shyness and stops a few feet away from him.

"Hey." Is all she can manage to articulate.

"Hey," he echoes, with a grin forming. "You look beautiful." He whispers earnestly.

Rory begins to relax into a smile.

"Thank you. It's a bridesmaid dress," she indicates to her outfit. "My mom got married today.

"And last night too, actually."

Well that explains the hoopla.

Logan's eyes crinkle in jest. "Both times to Luke right?"

Rory smirks at him. "Yeah thankfully, just to Luke."

They both continue to gaze at each other for a moment.

"I can't believe you're here," Rory sighs in amazement.

"I'm sorry, if I'd have known, I wouldn't have come today. I should have checked first before just showing up."

"No, it's fine, the wedding's practically over. I mean, your timing is unbelievable. I got your letter, literally like 20 minutes ago."

"My timing has been awful." He shakes his head, chastising his ego for keeping him from her for too long.

"So this article, huh? You scoured the depths of the internet for it?" Rory retrieves the envelope from her purse, waving it in between them, and they both take steps closer to each other.

Logan smiles. She's read the letter, so there's not much point in playing it cool now.

"It's been in my desk drawer for 2 years." He confesses. "There was a part of me that hoped every time you used my desktop that you'd go snooping and find it."

Rory stares at him with wide-eyed incredulity. How is it that they have managed to screw up to this extent and for so long?!

"I almost sent it for your birthday after that first weekend in Hamburg but I was worried about coming off too strong." Logan continues, moving towards her.

"But a first edition Pushkin wasn't too strong?" she asks, thinking of the $50,000 antique 'Boris Godunov' she'd received from him for her 30th birthday.

"I thought it had good sniffability." He mutters softly, reaching out to graze her hand with his own.

She breaks into a broad smile. How is it possible for him to be this beautiful and charming and to put her at ease so effortlessly?

Logan brushes an errant tear from her cheek and Rory suddenly feels self-conscious.

"Oh God, I must look such a mess. We've been up all day and night, and it's been really emotional, I must be all blotchy from crying …" _… and I'm pregnant with your baby_ , she finishes in her own head.

He takes one final step toward her, until their bodies are touching, and her hands reflexively rest on his waist.

"You look _perfect_ ," he vows, and she feels his sincerity down to her soul.

"So … I got your voicemail." He says with a lilt to his voice.

"Can you please not talk about the voicemail?" She shakes her head in embarrassment.

"I'm not sure I can talk about anything else. I've already listened to it 6 times on the way over here. I'm going to add it to my playlist for the gym."

They both chuckle and the shared nerves between them start to lighten.

"Don't make fun of me."

"I swear I am not making fun of you. I love it. It's the best message I've ever had."

"I sounded deranged."

"You sounded perfect. At our 50th wedding anniversary I'm gonna play that message, I'm gonna set it to a soundtrack, and I will love it just as much as I do now."

"It's just, I didn't know how to ... I was trying to say ..." Rory furrows her brow, did he just mention their wedding?

"I know what you were trying to say."

She looks up at him expectantly, _you do_?

He cradles her face in his hand, caressing the apple of her cheek with his thumb.

"I love you too, Ace."

She smiles into his embrace, and entwines his other hand with her own.

"You used 5 words."

"I'm not quite the wordsmith you are," he smirks.

"I don't know, that letter was something else," she says breathily.

They lean in for a kiss and their lips have barely met when Rory pulls back, she doesn't want to leave anything unsaid anymore.

Logan looks at her puzzled but Rory is gazing at him with absolute certainty.

"Just so we're 100% clear and on the same page … I love you."

"I love you." He whispers against her lips.

"It feels good to say that again."

"It feels even better hearing it."

They kiss and he draws her as close as physically possible, desperate for the anchorage holding her provides. It has been far too long since he has kissed her and he's never allowing that again. He's certain that he is never jeopardising what they have again.

She allows herself to get wrapped in his arms, deepening their kiss. Her mind starts to feel fuzzy and she's a little unsteady on her feet as the battle between exhaustion and adrenaline threaten to overcome her. Despite all that, it's as if she can feel herself start to piece together again.

They continue kissing for considerably longer than is probably appropriate at her mother's wedding. His hands are in her hair and she is using so much more tongue than she usually deems acceptable in public. And … they're in the middle of Stars Hollow. And if anyone were to turn the corner they'd spot them making out instantly. And they'd be the talk of the town.

Rory reluctantly pulls away, pecking his lips one more time. She nods back towards the wedding reception.

"I better finish helping with the clear-up before they send out a search party. Do you want to go and wait at the house for me? My mom and Luke are staying elsewhere tonight so we'll have the place to ourselves."

Logan nods his approval, still slightly befuddled from the fervour of their kiss; while Rory fishes her keys out of her purse.

"You can let yourself in," she explains, handing them over.

They pause, holding their hands tightly together and neither wants to let go. They've only been reunited for a few minutes and they've barely begun to put this all back together.

"I …" Rory hesitates, a tremor in her voice. "There's so much I have to say but we need more time and privacy than we have right here."

Logan kisses her reassuringly. Letting her go is the last thing he wants to do, but he can't help but go along with whatever she suggests.

"I promise we'll talk about everything we need to. Go - do what you have to do. I'll wait."

"I'm so glad you're here," she smiles nervously at him and utters, "I love you" once more as she retreats along the sidewalk.

"I love you," he replies, not taking his eyes off of her until she disappears from his view.

* * *

Rory stops behind the rental vehicle that Logan has parked in the drive and spies him sitting on the porch steps, an overnight bag at his feet. She looks at him quizzically as she exits the car.

"I figured I'd wait out here, I didn't really feel comfortable letting myself in."

"That's not an issue I've known you to have." Rory mocks as she walks towards him.

She reaches for his hand as he stands to enter the house. He slips his free arm around her waist and she moulds herself to him instantly, burying her face in his neck and relishing the opportunity to hug him tightly. They're embracing on the front steps of the house she grew up in and in so many different ways, she feels like she's finally home.

They sidestep the boxes of excess wedding paraphernalia as they close the door behind them and as soon as they have dropped their respective bags, they draw together once more.

What starts as a relatively chaste kiss soon intensifies and before long Logan has Rory pinned against the wall of the entryway. She almost allows herself to quite literally get carried away by him; his hands make their way to her ass and as he begins to lift her legs around him she pulls back.

This is great, _really great_ , and all but there is nothing typical about this reconciliation and she imagines that he'll probably feel a little misled if she takes him to bed before she tells him about the new addition they're going to acquire in a matter of months.

"Logan, stop."

"Of course, sorry." He replies breathlessly, pulling back just far enough to kiss her brow and rest his nose on her forehead.

"You don't have to be sorry. It's just, we should probably …"

"You're right. We have a lot to talk about."

"Yeah. **A lot**." She bites down on her lip and he raises an eyebrow in response.

"Is everything okay?"

She looks at him, slightly overwhelmed with the enormity that his mindless question holds.

"Yeah. I think so, I hope so. Everything's going to be okay, right?"

He smiles earnestly. "Yeah, it is. Shall we maybe sit?" He gestures towards the couch in the living room.

"Yes we should, sitting is going to help." As they begin to make their way there, Rory turns sharply, pulling him into the kitchen. "Actually, let's make a drink first."

She clears some space on the kitchen table, moving the remnants of this morning's make-up and hairspray to the counter before placing them back again; her nerves needing a physical outlet.

Logan watches her suspiciously; something was odd about this picture.

"Shall we maybe make some coffee?" He reaches for the pot; that will preoccupy her enough for her to relax a little.

"No." She removes the coffee pot from his hand, she dreads to think how much caffeine she has already unwittingly exposed this baby to. "You like tea, and I think this is more of a tea conversation."

"Woah, okay what is going on?!" He pulls her towards him by the waist. "Since when do you consider anything to be a 'tea conversation' and does your mom even allow it in the house?"

Rory pauses; she has got to compose herself. She had a plan for this, for how she was going to tell him; but then he had to show up being all handsome and charming and sweeping her off her feet and it's thrown her.

"The tea is in that cabinet, behind the multivitamins," she points, "my mom doesn't even go in there. Will you please make us some tea? I need to go to the bathroom and then I'm going to change because, as beautiful as Miss Celine made this dress, I really want to be out of these heels right now. Then we'll talk."

He surveys her for a moment; God he has missed every single thing about her, even the bits he doesn't understand at all.

"Sure." He kisses her gently. "Go get yourself comfortable. I'll make the _tea_." He smirks as he says the word.

A few moments later, Logan waits in the living room for Rory to join him. He takes in his surroundings, determining that although it has clearly been redecorated since he was last here, Lorelai's home still has the comforting atmosphere it always did. He tries very hard not to focus on specifically _when_ he was last here, sitting in this exact same spot, asking for Lorelai's approval to propose to Rory, believing that their whole life together was just in front of them.

As he begins to lose himself in the melancholy memories of the days that followed, Rory exits the bedroom in a loose t-shirt and yoga pants, clutching a small stack of flashcards; and he is reminded that despite everything that has gone before, it feels like they're going to be alright now.

Rory offers him a genuine smile as she sits beside him, observing the uncertainty on his face.

"Thanks for waiting," she mumbles, giving his hand an encouraging squeeze.

"Of course. So …" Logan trails off.

Rory takes a breath, steadying herself for what's to come. Part of her wishes that they didn't have to do all of this straight away, that they could just indulge in being together for a little while before they have to acknowledge all their past mistakes and ramifications. But, the pregnancy has them on a timer and so their discussions will have to be accelerated. Everything that needs to be said, needs to be said soon.

"I've made some notes."

"I would expect nothing less." He teases good-naturedly, glancing at the cards she has in her grasp.

She smiles before inhaling slowly again.

"I'm gonna go chronologically … and start with the … one … big … thing …

"… The …"

She stalls; what is wrong with her, she just cannot say the word in front of him?!

" _Proposal_." He offers gently. "It's okay, I think we can say the word aloud now."

Rory releases a small sigh of relief.

"Right, the _proposal_ – it caught me off guard."

Logan grimaces slightly at that understatement.

"The whole public proposal thing is not really me, **but** it is _you_. I could never have put myself out there like you did, in front of all those people. To be so sure, so brave - I love you for that."

She smiles towards him, there are already tears forming in her eyes and she's barely begun.

"I love that about _us_ – that in some ways we're different and in others we're similar. I feel like we fit, you know? We compliment each other. But it clearly doesn't make us mind readers.

"Maybe I should have been paying more attention, maybe you were dropping clues that I wasn't getting, but all I know is that it felt like one minute we were talking about factoring each other in, in the vaguest way possible, and the next minute you'd made, or offered, plans for the next few years of our lives."

Rory pauses to check her notes and Logan desperately wants to interrupt, to reinforce his explanation and apologies from the letter; but he knows he needs to let her have her say, and then he can have his.

"Also… and I don't think I've ever been this honest with anyone about this - I think if I'd have gotten the Reston fellowship, I would have said 'yes' and insisted on us doing long distance for a while and having a longer engagement. I had pinned all my hopes on getting that internship and in a really conceited way, I thought I was a shoe-in. I don't deal with failure that well in case you've forgotten the 'marina grand larceny incident of 2005'. It felt like when your father told me I didn't have 'it' all over again. Like I wasn't gonna make it.

"And I just, I desperately wanted to make it. For myself obviously, after working so hard for so long. But for my mom, for my grandparents, and for you too. I wanted to be good enough. I wanted to be great.

"If Hugo hadn't offered me the Obama job - which I only got because of you and you introducing us - I don't know what I would have ended up doing. Probably toured the theme parks with my mom and had a complete breakdown somewhere in the Midwest.

"You said in your letter that turning you down was the right thing for me, but I'm not sure it was. I just wished we'd aligned our timing a bit better.

"I regretted it - saying 'no' - the minute you walked away from me. I tried to deny it, I tried to push it down as far as I could inside of me, I didn't really talk about it that much. Sometimes I'd admit to Lane how much I missed you, occasionally Paris would drag the truth out of me; but mostly I just repressed it as best I could.

"On the surface, I really tried to move on. I tried dating around. I did date other guys over the years, none particularly serious - even Paul wasn't serious, despite how long we were supposedly ' _together_ ' for. They were all so purposefully different from you. I think I was always waiting for you to come back into my life.

"So when you did, I don't really know why I didn't just grab you with both hands and not let you go, rather than keeping you at arms length.

"I'm not sure if I ever truly believed in the whole no-strings-Vegas arrangement. I was just _so scared_ and it made me so crazy.

"The words were always there, on the tip of my tongue, that I love you and wanted to be with you properly but … I felt like a mess. I still do."

Rory shrugs and wipes away a tear before she refocuses on Logan next to her.

"You are so _brilliant_." She flatters him earnestly and he squirms a little in response.

"I am so proud of you and of everything you've done. I know you don't like to admit it, but you were quite literally born to run a media empire and you are amazing at it. And … I'm a little bit envious. Which is mean and selfish because you're constantly building me up … but there's a part of me that wishes I'd have been there with you, rather than you doing so well without me.

"I have _not_ done as well as I was supposed to. I feel like a failure. Like a waste of potential. I can't even tell you where exactly it all went wrong, only that at some point I realised that I was continually making the wrong decisions and it was like it kept snowballing. And so I thought that I should keep my walls up with you, not go all in, until I'd stopped screwing work up and achieved everything I was supposed to.

"I hate how I've wasted time – with work, with you – and made choices I never thought I would make."

Rory's voice breaks and a few tears fall onto the cards in her hands.

"I've wanted you every day since that first night in Hamburg. I've wanted to say this all to you, but I just never found the right words, or the courage. And … I'm sorry for that."

"I don't exactly know how we can reconcile all this, how we move forward. But I know that I want to, if you do, I desperately want that with you. I haven't planned for it to all go this way exactly …"

Her eyes shift to her stomach and Logan realises that that's not the first time she's done that throughout their conversation. He's almost starts to jump to some conclusions but her continued prose disrupts him.

" … But I hope we can work it out. I _want_ to make this work."

" **I love you** ," she expresses with more conviction than she thinks she's ever uttered those words with.

"And there's one more thing I want to say but I want to let you talk first. But above all else, I am so hopelessly in love with you and I should have told you that earlier. I need you to know that I love you."

Rory exhales, having unburdened what feels like her entire soul, and looks at him with her eyes shining.

Logan surveys the beautiful woman in front of him, the absolute love of his life. She's just admitted things he has been yearning to hear and there's so much else he wants to know, that he wants to understand. But, he can see the vulnerability radiating from her and all he wants is to put her at ease.

He takes her face in his hand and looks her in the eye.

"I know now."

They lean in and their kiss is immediately deepened. Her flashcards crumple between them on the couch. She lets them fall to the floor as she wraps her arms around his neck, pulling him even closer.

They continue for a few moments, lost in each other, before Logan forces himself to tone things down. He'd like nothing better than to progress their kissing to it's obvious conclusion but he knows that he owes Rory more than that. She's been so open and honest with him and she deserves the same.

Once they've disengaged, they face each other again though they're sitting even closer than before, clasping hands.

"I don't have any notes written down, so I'm pretty much just gonna be flying by the seat of my pants." Logan murmurs jokingly.

Rory smiles. "I would expect nothing less."

He focuses on Rory, looking her in the eye and starts with – "I love you."

She smiles at him again.

"Oh God, I don't know how to begin. I've thought so many times about how I should say this, how I should make up for … _everything_ ", he searches for the appropriate word.

"You said a lot in your letter. And you said it brilliantly." She consoles gently.

Logan brings her hand to his lips, placing a soft kiss there.

"I guess I'll also start at the beginning."

"A very good place to start." She remarks dorkily.

He laughs and kisses her hand again before he begins.

"I knew the second that you looked so shocked, at the first "wow", I knew that I'd messed up the timing and made a mistake.

"That's the day, the moment, the decision, that I still have nightmares about. That I can look back on and know that _that's_ where I went wrong. I'd come back from so much else, we'd moved on and worked through so much else; but it felt like I wasn't ever going to come back from that rejection."

"It wasn't a rejection," Rory interrupts softly. "I didn't mean it that way, I promise. I just needed more time …"

"I know." Logan admits sadly. "I should have given you time and I am _so sorry_ , more than I think I could put into words.

"I can't believe that it felt like it had to be 'all or nothing' for me then but after Hamburg I was willing to take whatever you offered me, however minimal. I was afraid that if I pushed you for more commitment again, that I'd push you away for good.

"And I just didn't want to lose you again. I **couldn't** lose you again.

"After we broke up, it took a very long time for me … to feel like I was going to be okay. And then Hamburg happened and it was like I had you back, but I didn't really.

"I stupidly thought that given enough time everything would work itself out. But that didn't seem to be happening and then the whole engagement …"

He sighs heavily. He has no idea how to adequately explain his actions to Rory, when he struggles to explain them to himself.

"I was more surprised than I should have been when my mom called and said that Odette and I getting engaged was a caveat of the merger with her father's company. We did allow our parents to believe that we had more of a relationship than we actually did. I knew that they expected me to settle down soon and that her parents wanted the same for her.

"I was focused mainly on _us_ ," he gestures between them, "and arrogant enough that I thought it would all blow over and I'd get what I wanted.

"This is the part where I sound like a real asshole … I thought when I told you about it, that you would tell me not to do it, maybe to marry you instead … but you didn't.

"I used that as justification to myself for going along with it. I never intended to go through with getting married, but as time went on it kind of felt like – if I wasn't important enough to you, for you to try and stop me, then did it really matter anyway?" He shrugs and attempts to catch his breath, desperate to not be overwhelmed with emotion before he's said all he needs to.

He looks at Rory, to be met with her downcast eyes and quivering lips.

"Hey, don't cry. I don't want to upset you."

Rory shakes her head, furious with herself for making him feel so unloved.

"I never wanted to make you feel like you don't mean … _everything_ to me. I wanted so badly to just jump in feet first, but I couldn't stop myself **hesitating**."

Logan gives a puzzled look at her stressing the word that occasionally haunts her subconscious.

"Hesitating …?" He queries.

Rory frowns.

"When you proposed and we broke up, my mom said something and it resonated with me at the time and it's stayed with me. About not hesitating … that if it was right, then I wouldn't have hesitated when you proposed. So I've been waiting for that feeling of unquestionable faith – not just in you; in work, in life, in everything. And I'm still waiting."

Logan pauses for a moment. If he thought their reasons for breaking up frustrated him before, he's really struggling now.

(He's also really struggling to not say something sarcastic about how Lorelai, who has only today _and also last night_ married the guy she's wanted to be with for he-doesn't-even-know-how-many-years, apparently told Rory not to marry him because she needed time to think on it.)

He exhales sharply, shaking his head.

"I am such an idiot. I cannot possibly put into words how badly I wish we had just _talked_ about all this, back then. And that's my fault, and I'm sorry."

He turns back towards Rory, his attention fully on her.

"You hesitate Ace, that's who you are. You're cautious and rational and practical, you think things through. I love that about you, I always have.

"I also love the occasions where you don't hesitate and let go, but I'm talking doing an extra shot or taking a trip at short notice. I would always think that you need time to consider the big things, like marriage; I do too. I guess I just assumed - wrongly obviously - that you might have already weighed up some of those ideas before I proposed.

"I don't see you needing time to process as a sign we're not meant to be together. I love you and I want to be with you, that's the only sign I need.

"And when it comes to you feeling like you have to put us on hold for your career – why can't you have both? I want you to have both and I will support you in whatever it is you want to do.

"I don't think I wholly understand why you think it has to be a choice. Maybe it's because your mom told you that you can't have both; my parents then came into your life and told you that you couldn't – but you can. **We** can. I want that for us.

"I don't want us to be 'done' or 'finished' before we get to be together. I don't want to wait until you're done screwing up or being young or having fun – I want to grow up and grow old, mess up, and work hard, and have fun **with you**.

"We can take on the world together, Ace." He promises her adoringly.

This time, Rory brings their entwined hands to her lips to kiss him. She's always dared to believe that they can.

"We can travel; we can stay put; we can do both. You can write – novels; articles; cookbooks; whatever you feel like. You can edit; you can teach. We can give it all up and go and buy a farm somewhere. We can do anything you want.

"You want to get married? I will marry you tomorrow. You don't? Great, we'll live in sin for the rest of our lives. You want babies? We can have as many as you want; and if you want none that's fine too."

A look of involuntary shock flashes across Rory's face at the mere mention of 'babies' but she attempts to mask it again quickly.

But not quite quickly enough.

Logan registers her alarm and within the space of a few seconds, his neurons are firing like mad and an awful lot of dots start to connect.

The frequent glimpses towards her belly; the conspicuous lack of coffee; the fact that she drove home from the wedding and doesn't taste of alcohol; the persistent _"I need to tell you something"_.

Then the neurons seem to stop firing and he freezes for a perfect moment.

He knows what those things mean, or at least _could_ mean, and when all collated together, what they definitely point towards.

He allows the realisation to wash over him and finds that he's … not as panicked as he perhaps thought he could be.

This is what he wanted. What he's always wanted – a home with her, marriage, children. Sure he thought they'd maybe do it in that order, but after everything they've put themselves through, he will absolutely take whatever order he gets.

A baby. **Wow**. Well … maybe. He should probably get confirmation on that.

He focuses on Rory once more, she's looking at him intriguingly and he realises that he doesn't know how long he's been quiet for.

He takes her hands in his again and continues with his affirmations.

"I want a life with you, in whatever form that takes. With whatever surprises life decides to throw at us." He glances knowingly towards her stomach, still not quite believing what he thinks he thinking.

She follows his gaze and gulps. Well, if he's already guessed then that will save her having to tell him.

She lets out a nervous breath as he watches her expectantly.

"So you said you had something else to tell me …?" He prompts.

"It kind of feels like you might already have got there on your own …" Her eyes dart around awkwardly.

"Yeah, but I'm going to need you to say the actual words."

"Logan …" she begins, her voice shaky.

He strokes her hands soothingly to calm her. "Yes, Ace?"

"I'm pregnant."

He was wrong, it wasn't her voicemail, _this_ is the best thing he's ever heard.

He breaks into the widest smile she thinks she's ever seen adorn his face and bringing his forehead to rest against hers, whispers passionately, "God, I love you so much Rory."

He captures her lips in a firm but gentle kiss, full of love and promise.

She has no idea how she's still able to cry after all the tears she's shed today but the overwhelming relief of being honest with Logan at last, about everything, means that she lets out a few more sobs.

But they're happy sobs. Finally.

He pulls back and passes her a tissue from the coffee table, watching in amazement as she wipes her face dry.

He can't believe that Rory is sat right next to him, and she loves him, and he loves her, and she's pregnant, and after all the odds that were stacked against them (and the barriers they stacked against themselves), they're going to be together, be a _family_.

Rory stares at him, trying to decipher what is going on in his head. He won't stop smiling.

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah definitely, I just have some questions."

"It's yours." Rory mutters immediately.

"That wasn't one of my questions but … good to have that clarified." He teases with a grin.

"You're not freaking out." She remarks sceptically.

"Not especially. I'm sure I'll get there."

"Don't you want to know how this happened?"

"No, I was there, I remember. I've been remembering it _a lot_ actually."

She ignores his suggestive tone in a rush to disclose everything.

"I messed up the dates to get my implant replaced. I didn't get a reminder from my gynaecologist and I've been so all over the place, literally and emotionally, that I just completely spaced on it." She explains hurriedly. "I didn't plan this, to try and trap you."

"I know that." He replies, amusement in his voice.

"Well, I imagine that people will maybe think that."

"I don't care what people think."

"But you're happy? You seem happy." She continues to survey him with a confused look.

"I am very happy. The happiest I've ever been."

Rory relaxes again. He's reacting even better than she hoped he might; in fact everyone has so far. Except for herself, obviously. But there's time for her to work on that.

"Are _you_ okay?" He asks genuinely. "Do you feel okay?"

"Yeah, I feel good. A little sickness but it's not been too bad. If I eat a lot of dry crackers, it helps. I've only known a few days but so far, so good.

"I'm kind of nervous because … well for lots of reasons I suppose, but I didn't plan this and I didn't realise straight away so I've been drinking lots of coffee, as usual, and I got totally, embarrassingly wasted at my mom's bachelorette party. I know the chances of that causing anything to go wrong are minimal, and apparently the morning sickness is a good sign that things are okay but I still feel a little scared."

"We'll get everything checked out." He nods reassuringly. "Have you been to the doctor?"

"Not yet. It's been a really busy few days and I was hoping you'd want to go together?"

"Absolutely." He beams. "We'll make an appointment first thing tomorrow. Do you already have an obstetrician in mind or do we need to find one? I think Honor had the same doc for both of the kids and she was really great, I'll get her office number …" He starts to ramble.

"Actually, Paris is sending me a shortlist. And to make life easy I think we should just go with whatever she suggests." Rory interrupts.

"You told Paris already?"

"Not exactly. She just looked at me and knew." Rory shrugs her shoulders in disbelief. "But I have told Lane. And my mom. _And_ my grandma."

Logan's eyes widen. "How far down the list of people to tell was I?!"

"It was just those, I swear. I've been a bit of a mess and I couldn't really keep it in. But now I feel like an idiot because too many people know too soon and isn't that bad luck?"

He squeezes her hand and kisses her comfortingly.

"It's not bad luck. We can tell as many people as you're comfortable with. But we will get to a doctor as soon as possible just to put your mind at ease okay?"

They're quiet for a moment; Logan processing as best he can, Rory allowing her anxiety levels to stabilise.

"You've already told Emily?" He queries as if he'd missed that tidbit the first time.

Rory just nods in response.

"Is there a price on my head?" He asks, only semi-jokingly.

"No, actually, she seemed pretty on board with the whole thing. No idea what's got into her, maybe Berta's lacing the food with pot, but she was very supportive. She actually implied that I should seduce you to win your back."

"I'm not averse to that idea." He comments with a smirk.

"Oh yeah, you need convincing? Still on the fence about this are you?"

"I wouldn't say that, but some _persuasion_ is always welcome."

She laughs and takes no notice of his flirtation, instead reaching for her drink and passes Logan his too.

"So Emily's okay? She's happy in Nantucket?"

"Yeah she's doing well, I'm really proud of her. Did I tell you she'd moved?" Rory replies in between sips of now lukewarm tea.

"My mom mentioned it. It was my turn to get the Hartford society rundown this month." He rolls his eyes.

She had managed to forget about the inevitability of the Huntzbergers' involvement since this morning, but then it dawned on Rory again.

"Oh God. Your mom. Your dad. We're going to have to tell them." She groans. "Actually, **you're** going to have to tell them. I'll do a lot for you, but not that."

"Of course I'll tell them. It'll be fine. Most likely." Logan mutters unconvincingly; he hadn't even considered his parents' reaction yet. "Hey, if we're really lucky this might be what finally gets me disowned."

Rory's mouth drops open in mock horror.

"I'm kidding." Logan shrugs. "Probably." He adds as an afterthought.

"They're not going to like this." She says seriously.

"Maybe not." He replies.

"They will react badly."

"Maybe. But it doesn't matter what they think, or say, or do. I'm here with you, _both of you_."

Logan allows his hand to rest on her stomach for the first time that night and the reality of their future child growing inside of her chokes him up. He softly traces a circle there as if to say 'hello' to its tiny inhabitant. It's cliché and he knows it but he can't help the tear that spills down his cheek.

"I'm sorry." His cheeks flush with mild embarrassment. "This is a lot, it's _amazing_ but still a lot to think about."

"Don't be sorry. You're right; it is a lot. And you look nearly as exhausted as I feel which can't help."

Rory kisses him tenderly and places both of their mugs down before pulling him to lay on the couch with her.

"So we're doing this? You ready? Ready for anything?" She murmurs against his chest.

"I think this might be the one thing that I could never be ready for as much as I try, but that is absolutely not going to stop me."

They both relax in each other's embrace. Rory drapes her arm across his waist and allows her eyes to drift closed. Logan is lightly caressing her arm when a thought occurs to him.

"So we're engaged now?"

"What?!" Rory is startled out of drowsiness.

"I'm pretty sure you proposed to me in your voicemail." He affirms with some confidence.

"I did not." She leans back to look at him.

"You definitely implied that we should get married."

"Well, yeah ..."

"So I accept."

She cannot stop the smile from spreading across her face, her features lighting up in spite of herself.

"That's how you accept a proposal?"

"That's how some of us do it. You get asked, you say 'yes', it really is that simple."

She raises an eyebrow, debating whether or not to fall for his obvious goading.

"Maybe we take it a step at a time, slow and steady?"

"Yeah, taking things slow, that makes sense. It's not as if it's taken us 12 years to get to this point or anything.

"Or like we're having a baby.

"Not like I don't look smoking hot in a tux and boutonnière.

"You'd be stunning in a white dress, Ace.

"And there'd be cake, you do like cake."

She grins; why was she ever afraid to take another leap of faith with him?

"Do you think I'd get away with a white dress?" She asks, gesturing towards her belly.

"Well, maybe off-white."

They both laugh and he quickly pecks her lips once again.

"Well maybe we wait and see, one thing at a time." Rory suggests pragmatically.

"Okay," he agrees nodding, "whatever you want."

She settles into his side again and sighs happily.

"It may have taken us a while but it feels like we've got the timing right now."

"Yeah, I think we have." He nods with a content smile gracing his lips.

Rory closes her eyes again, but Logan shifts and attempts to move her upwards.

"Come on, let's get you into bed."

She resists with a firm shake of the head, pulls a blanket down over them and snuggles further into him.

"Rory, you need rest."

"I am resting. Or I was, before you started to manhandle me."

"You need proper rest. It's not good for you to sleep on the couch."

"I slept here last night, it was fine. Besides, we won't both fit any better than we do here, it's still the same bed I had in middle school. And I am not letting you out of my grasp tonight."

He rolls his eyes; there is _so much_ that they have to get organised.

"Right, once we've been to the doctor the next thing on our list is a house, with furniture to fill it, so you have somewhere to sleep."

"Sounds good." She yawns. "We'll get on that tomorrow. But right now, I'm ready to sleep right here."

"You're sure that this is comfortable enough?" He checks, unconvinced.

Rory smiles into his chest. She's sure if this continues that the overprotective father-to-be stuff will begin to grate on her at some point, but right now it's all she can do to not explode from joy and contentment.

"I'm sure. I don't know when I last felt this comfortable. It feels like I'm finally where I'm supposed to be." She slurs her words a little, slumber starting to take over.

Logan sighs happily into her hair. "I know. Me too."

They know that they haven't fixed everything. And there is still so much to talk about – between themselves, and with their respective families. But there's time for all that.

(Well … there's seven months before shit gets real anyway).

Nevertheless for now, they're really, truly **together** ; and them together is just about the best place either of them could ever imagine to be.

* * *

 **A/N:** I feel like I should apologise for my liberal use of the words 'smile' and 'love' in this chapter, but I'm not going to. The more smiles and love the better.


End file.
